<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158</id><updated>2011-07-08T01:02:02.201-07:00</updated><category term='first post'/><title type='text'>Confessions of a Punk Princess</title><subtitle type='html'>characters in this story DO bear resemblence to real people...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-7199713254533340304</id><published>2009-03-08T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T13:23:56.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Tanvi!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Today is Tanvi Mohan Kudalkar's 18th birthday!!! *heavy applause*.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Today was perhaps one of those very few days i must have felt really really happy... I really am in not in one of those moods where I can sit and use fancy words to describe my feelings. today i feeli like writing just outta sheer happiness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;The actual incident started with a simple phone call to Siddharth in Kochi out of impulsiveness and also because i was missing him like hell (hadn't spoken to him the last 7 months cuz i was still taking a dump *wink*). And it was Tanvi's birthday in a few hours... We had to do something special for the whiny woman who we simply love....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;A call went out to everyone concerned. Nimmo, Sparsh, Siddhant and Mac. Once the clock struck 12. It was a mess. Siddharth singing Na na na na na na.... Nimmo trying to make sure everyone's still on the line, Sparsh saying she's sownloading a Happy Birthday song that went like, "How old are you now?", Mac not there i think. Just a mess....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;We finally wished her.... Not celebrating a birthday party in her house, not cuuting a cake a Goody land... Not giving her any presents.... Just wishing her from different parts of India with exams digging our graves, to tell her how much we love her, to make sure she has a kick ass day without complaining.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Eventually i realised what I've been missing out on... Goa is still one place that always pulls me back to my 'happy place'. I still have to buy sidd new jordans....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------&lt;br /&gt;Now playing: &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/led+zeppelin/track/what+is+and+what+should+never+be" title="'Led Zeppelin - What Is And What Should Never Be' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Led Zeppelin - What Is And What Should Never Be&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic; font-size: 10px;"&gt;via &lt;a style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/" title="FoxyTunes - Web of music at your fingertips"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-7199713254533340304?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/7199713254533340304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=7199713254533340304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/7199713254533340304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/7199713254533340304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-birthday-tanvi.html' title='Happy Birthday Tanvi!!!'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-4449767582263742138</id><published>2009-02-10T16:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T16:16:14.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness that Sunny and I share</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;The most random things can be the most inspiring things sometimes. I discovered that I am not the only person who hangs up halfway through a conversation just because I'm bored... Conversations that discuss such things can trigger off a longer conversation that my either lead to interest or just plain feeling of sympathy for your mentally deranged counterpart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Insanity is that extra step you take. If you take it, you know what you have. If you don't, well you just wouldn't notice the difference. I've had friends who can pretend to be socializing psychopaths because they thrive on the attention they get in their friend circle. But I've rarely come across someone who can tolerate themselves,alone, for over an hour.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;According to Honey Love(it's a code name), he's selfish. He cares, he loves, but when it comes to sex; that's the only time he'd consider being nice to his girlfriend. I agree with him. Science agrees with him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;nothing very relevant just being random...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-4449767582263742138?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/4449767582263742138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=4449767582263742138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/4449767582263742138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/4449767582263742138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2009/02/randomness-that-sunny-and-i-share.html' title='Randomness that Sunny and I share'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-5784453648371350678</id><published>2009-02-02T11:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T12:04:22.339-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Better Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I remember the only thin that used to prep my spirits used to be chocolate mousse from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Birdy's&lt;/span&gt;. I'd ride there all the way on my mutilated bike,Eliza. It brought such joy to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lately, I've been awfully stressed out for no reason at all. I miss days when I traveled all the way to V.T. just to get a cup of coffee with a friend. Or have steak Tuesdays with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sharang&lt;/span&gt; and spend the rest of the afternoon at Kala &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ghoda&lt;/span&gt; sitting at the amphitheater  planning out holiday's we'd actually never go for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Little things like, being excited about going to have pastry or meeting friends after a gap of 3 days, seemed so important at one time. Catching a stranger's eye and smiling at them for no reason at all. Complementing someone randomly because you like their book. I miss doing shit like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Life has become so dreadfully monotonous that even if I have all the time in the world I wouldn't do something &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt; I just don't feel like it. Or not go to V.T. because I can't compromise on the only one hour that I have because I have to meet my boyfriend. I haven't been too happy. I want to feel glad about who I am, what I'm doing... I want to thank the people who complete my life, make my spirits soar, bring a smile to my face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;If you listen to this song "Smile like you mean it" make sure you listen to the words, they make you realize how much you're losing out on things and how you gotta move on with time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-5784453648371350678?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/5784453648371350678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=5784453648371350678' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/5784453648371350678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/5784453648371350678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2009/02/better-days.html' title='Better Days'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-6964677205688734801</id><published>2008-07-03T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T14:49:16.701-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A few quotes.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="body"&gt;Who's judging American Idol? Paula Abdul? Paula Abdul judging a singing contest is like Christopher Reeve judging a dance contest!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Chris Rock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="body"&gt;My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was sixty. She's ninety-seven now, and we don't know where the hell she is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Ellen DeGeneres&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="huge"&gt;Oh, the tiger will love you. There is no sincerer love than the love of food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt;-&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;George Bernard Shaw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="body"&gt;Anyone who says he can see through women is missing a lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Groucho Marx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="body"&gt;Humor is reason gone mad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="body"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Groucho Marx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="body"&gt;Marriage is a wonderful institution, but who wants to live in an institution?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Groucho Marx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="body"&gt;We're in the dark ages if J-Lo can have a music career because of her ass. And let's face it, that's it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Jack Black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="body"&gt;You must never underestimate the power of the eyebrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Jack Black&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="body"&gt;Beer, it's the best damn drink in the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Jack Nicholson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="body"&gt;I've been too many places. I'm like the bad penny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt; -&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Jack Nicholson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;People who speak in metaphors should shampoo my crotch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;Jack Nicholson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="huge"&gt;I busted a mirror and got seven years bad luck, but my lawyer thinks he can get me five.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt;-&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Steven Wright&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" class="bodybold"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;----------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Now playing: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/nirvana/track/token+eastern+song+%28demo%2c+1989%29" title="'Nirvana - Token Eastern Song (Demo, 1989)' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Nirvana - Token Eastern Song (Demo, 1989)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic; font-size: 10px;"&gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/" title="FoxyTunes - Web of music at your fingertips"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-6964677205688734801?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/6964677205688734801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=6964677205688734801' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/6964677205688734801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/6964677205688734801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2008/07/few-quotes.html' title='A few quotes.....'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-4909672081907876177</id><published>2008-07-03T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T13:28:54.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; I seriously can't write no more. Inspiration has abandoned me and made me lady luck's black sheep. Okay it's not like I'm perpetually unhappy with my life. Everyone wants to strive harder to prove it not to anyone, but atleast themselves, that they aren't underachievers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Opportunities come with an expiry date. If you don't make use of them at the right time, they have to be thrown in the discarding bin. But then again, when one door is slammed at your face, desperation drives you to try every other door unless you find something relatively similar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;In the midst of all that's happening lately, I am convinced that I really don't have much time to **** around with (my DAD occasionally reads my blogs, so dad I didn't exactly use '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;the word&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;'). My friends are really drawing away from me. Not that, either of us are doing it deliberately, but at such a point when we really need to be engrossed in our own lives, everyone's under the impression, "No one gives a shit about me!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;This is for my friends or for anyone who is going through the angst that drives everyone to the point of insanity. It's just a phase. Besides no one can help you out in such a dreadful situation, but yourself. I mean, don't take me as this weird ass wannabe who trying to sit and advise people how they can pull their lives together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Please!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I don't do that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;It's just that this is the best way I can convince myself that, I know i can pull myself outta the shit that I'm going through right now. You gotta agree it's at least way better than writing those weird emo poems.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;So, finally my life is on it's way to recovery. And I quote The Beatles to increase my feel good factor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;What would think if I sang out of tune,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Would you stand up and walk out on me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;And I'll try not to sing out of key.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Oh I get by with a little help from my friends,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;He gets high with a little help from his friends,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Oh I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;What do I do when my love is away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;(Does it worry you to be alone)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;How do I feel by the end of the day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;(Are you sad because you're on your own)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;No, I get by with a little help from my friends,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Mmm I get high with a little help from my friends,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Mmm I'm gonna to try with a little help from my friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Do you need anybody?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I need somebody to love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Could it be anybody?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I want somebody to love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Would you believe in a love at first sight?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Yes I'm certain that it happens all the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;What do you see when you turn out the light?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I can't tell you, but I know it's mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Oh I get by with a little help from my friends,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Mmm I get high with a little help from my friends,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Oh I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Do you need anybody?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I need someone to love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Could it be anybody?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I want somebody to love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Oh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I get by with a little help from my friends,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I get high with a little help from my friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Yes I get by with a little help from my friends,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;with a little help from my friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;----------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Now playing: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/joe+anderson%2c+jim+sturgess+%26+dorm+buddies/track/with+a+little+help+from+my+friends" title="'Joe Anderson, Jim Sturgess &amp;amp; Dorm Buddies - With A Little Help From My Friends' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Joe Anderson, Jim Sturgess &amp;amp; Dorm Buddies - With A Little Help From My Friends&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-style: italic;font-size:10;" &gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/" title="FoxyTunes - Web of music at your fingertips"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-4909672081907876177?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/4909672081907876177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=4909672081907876177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/4909672081907876177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/4909672081907876177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-gonna-try-with-little-help-from-my.html' title='I&apos;m gonna try with a little help from my friends'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-6195787496250358246</id><published>2008-06-13T12:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T13:27:29.257-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rainy Realisation List</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-style: italic; font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Somehow this monsoon I have realized way too much about my life. So I took the initiative of jotting them down. This is what the outcome turned out to be like:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;li&gt; I cannot be in a perfect relationship with any guy, ever. The only perfect relationship I ever had was my first one. (which technically can be also referred to the time when i couldn't make decisions on my own)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Best friends. What are they for? You share a difficulty with them with an intention to slither out of the muck you are in, but they don't want to interfere. I think it's plain brilliant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's criminal for a person who seems to be happy all the time (usually referred to as optimists, I call the intelligent emo-morphs) to get upset. And when they do they are bitches.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I get broke in 5 days due to poor money management.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Best friends do try to improve you lifestyle at times. And when they do that you just can't believe how sweet they are.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love changing the color of my hair. I wish I was Nymphadora Tonks from Harry Potter.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am careless about expensive things e.g. my N95, but really careful about things that hardly cost me anything e.g. my 'tic-tic' clips which I've had for 2 years&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love keeping in touch with all the people I've ever known&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Then again i love deleting certain contacts from my phone list.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I hate chatting on line for more than 15-20 minutes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I admire intellectual people and tell fake people that they are fake on their face.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love PURPLE like a lot.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;So much that I colored my hair burgundy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I get inspired by Jaideep Khare's blog once in a while and envy coz i can't write like him.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I usually never land up completing the books that I read. A confession i never make to anyone.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I liked Hillary Clinton. She's smart.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't like the way Chetan Bhagat writes coz all his books so far superfluously involve a lot of sex.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't mind discussing sex with anyone. It's an interesting topic, when discussed with the right kind of people and not leading to sex.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The stock market bores me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love the Portugal football team.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I wish I come up with such lists more often.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;P.S. Special credits go out to Jaideep Khare. The entire list idea was actually &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;stolen&lt;/span&gt; from him. You can visit his beautiful blog at: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" href="http://toorandomforwords.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://toorandomforwords.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;----------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Now playing: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/nirvana/track/downer+%28live%2c+1988%29"&gt;Nirvana - Downer (Live, 1988)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;via &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-6195787496250358246?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/6195787496250358246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=6195787496250358246' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/6195787496250358246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/6195787496250358246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2008/06/rainy-realisation-list.html' title='The Rainy Realisation List'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-4686318747983071314</id><published>2008-01-02T11:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T13:31:59.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nostalgia Revisited</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;The year flew by and here I am still sticking to a resolution I made 3 years ago; Not to make any resolutions ever. It helps, resolutions are just a random word you throw into thin air, not even close to a promise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Goa was my refuge from my twisted life in Mumbai. That's what I actually thought till I got there. There was something different about the place I called &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;HOME&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;. It no longer felt welcoming. Anyway I thought probably that was because of the 12 hour journey which induced severe motion sickness. I met all the people who supposedly knew me the best. It felt good to see them somehow it felt weird coz there were a few new additions who actually belonged in the inner core of the circle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;My best friend Tanvi, has a new boyfriend. I'm happy for her, but a few things have created a massive mutation in her character. They fight a lot, she gets equally upset every time ; I assume it strengthens their bond. The whole relationship lacks something concrete, which is why I'm not convinced about HER being happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;My ex boyfriend, Siddharth, man oh man, He's hot!!! He stands apart from  the entire 'all- men- are- jerks'  junta. Still the carefree attitude with a whole new tonne of maturity, I fell for him all over again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Tara, my 'certified bitch for life' (in the sense our bond is too strong to be tampered with) is the only survivor amongst the other folks. Battling exaggerated expectations from her family she's the only person who still stuck to science. I'm so proud of her. The pressure could've crumbled anyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;It seems like a happy world down there, but a conversation with Siddharth made me realize how things are as screwed up for them as they are for me. Tanvi and her boyfriend have some really major issues, which can actually shake the foundations of their relationship. Things she doesn't know about him and things he refuses to acknowledge about her. Stuff like this can actually ruin their life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Tara is crumbling, but not showing it. Rumors, bad relationships, pathetic boyfriends are actually showing their effect now and she is resorting to impulsive measures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Siddharth can't do anything without his mother's consent. Things got really bad ever since his mother kept a tab of the going- ons with him and his girlfriend(s).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I crave to go back and live there. Something very solid convinced me, I won't fit there anymore. I lead a completely different life here. I have different issues, different controversies floating around me and different problems to fret about. No matter how much I crib about being away from my old life, somewhere deep down I know I'm happy to not live there anymore. I realized so much about people here, about people I called friends. People change,for good; their lives change for the better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;----------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Now playing: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/led+zeppelin/track/what+is+and+what+should+never+be"&gt;Led Zeppelin - What Is And What Should Never Be&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;via &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-4686318747983071314?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/4686318747983071314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=4686318747983071314' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/4686318747983071314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/4686318747983071314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2008/01/nostalgia-revisited.html' title='Nostalgia Revisited'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-5072017649589359421</id><published>2007-11-05T07:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T08:52:11.193-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Guy Who Changes My Life.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;There I was starting my fresh term, in a fresh school, which seemed more like a concentration camp. It lacked the very core of going to a new place, fun. I walked in with my hair in a mess, kohl in my eyes, skirt shorter than what the school's rule book specified, converse in my feet. My rebel look, which usually spoke my attitude out, Don't mess with me, I am THE outcast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;I walk into my classroom, welcomed by this girl who goes like," Oh! So you are Vasundhara Singh..." I was a lil shocked, wondering if i had already earned my celebrity status.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Me: "How do you know?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Gal: " the vice principal read out this letter sent by your dad, explaining your delay. How's your mother feeling now?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Me: {Scratching head, wondering what happened to my mom} Oh! She's great. Just got discharged out of the hospital. Bad diarrhea. You know it's the season.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;God! I was late to school by like 4 days. Reason, I was sent to Delhi for brain washing. But I didn't care.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;I looked for an isolated corner in class, which was already occupied by this guy, who I'll really like to take interest in. I took a seat next to the weird girl and whispered to her," Whose he?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Gal: Oh! He's Sharan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Me: {Drooling} Ahhhh.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Surprisingly his  name turned out to be  Sharang... I like guys with a unique name. I tried to get talking with him, but he was taken already by this chick who showed an immense amount of interest in him. I was heart broken. He listens to trance, but at least knew that West life wasn't a rock band!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;There I was stuck in the hell hole filled with people obsessed with Orkut, trying to draw account table formats, trying to adjust myself with teachers and students alike who couldn't get the G out of grammar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;I got to know him over the period time. But it was more like we were competing in this place with absolutely no attitude for attitude and ego. Yep! ego, huge ones. I started to like him for the person he was; strong emotionally, cute{kill me for this one}, witty, cute, smart, cute, intellectual and cute. But he didn't like me at all. Avoided me, was rude to my face. What more was I asking for. I Wanted a friend in this cruel and harsh world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;People hated me. I still talked to him. He got tired of all the attention he was getting from the female kind from school. He drew back, for atleast a month, he avoided interaction with anyone. I grew curious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;He poured his heart out, told me how his life was back in Colaba. How he wanted to go back, how he hated this Orkut obsessed place. We were in a similar situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;I asked him out and he turned me down. I cried, I wasn't good enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;We got back to our lives. Him with studying, Me with dating random assholes. Then we had this school trip. I tried my luck again. it worked. We dated for two days and broke up cuz we're only great friends. Yeah he was right. We got back to our lives again. This time getting closer to each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Cutting it shorter.... I really love him. For the person he is. I know him inside out {i guess} he is my pillar of support in times of need. He is my best friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Even today when we have nothing to say and we're sitting together, with out cigarettes, we always have something to talk about. I really love him... He's the warmth that comforts me when im all cold, he's the very reason i have faith in friendship. He is my best friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;----------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Now playing: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/u2/track/with+or+without+you" title="'u2 - with or without you' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;u2 - with or without you&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/" title="FoxyTunes - Web of music at your fingertips"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;----------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Now playing: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/judas+priest/track/turbo+lover" title="'Judas Priest - Turbo Lover' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Judas Priest - Turbo Lover&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/" title="FoxyTunes - Web of music at your fingertips"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;----------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Now playing: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/dead+prez/track/hell+yeah" title="'Dead Prez - Hell Yeah' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Dead Prez - Hell Yeah&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/" title="FoxyTunes - Web of music at your fingertips"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;----------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Now playing: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/ludacris/track/act+a+fool" title="'Ludacris - Act A Fool' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Ludacris - Act A Fool&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/" title="FoxyTunes - Web of music at your fingertips"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;----------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Now playing: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/death+cab+for+cutie/track/soul+meets+body" title="'Death Cab For Cutie - Soul Meets Body' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Death Cab For Cutie - Soul Meets Body&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/" title="FoxyTunes - Web of music at your fingertips"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;----------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Now playing: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/the+doobie+brothers/track/long+train+running+%28live%29" title="'The Doobie Brothers - Long Train Running (Live)' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;The Doobie Brothers - Long Train Running (Live)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/" title="FoxyTunes - Web of music at your fingertips"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;----------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Now playing: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/my+chemical+romance/track/the+ghost+of+you" title="'My Chemical Romance - The Ghost Of You' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;My Chemical Romance - The Ghost Of You&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/" title="FoxyTunes - Web of music at your fingertips"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-5072017649589359421?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/5072017649589359421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=5072017649589359421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/5072017649589359421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/5072017649589359421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2007/11/guy-who-changes-my-life.html' title='The Guy Who Changes My Life.'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-823979444838859326</id><published>2007-10-28T11:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T08:51:27.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my misery</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Punk is no longer herself, shes lost herself to the deathly metal gods. She no longer holds that inner self persona that she had about herself. She wanted to break free from the bonds of fiction and for once be glad she's in the real world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;There she was led by the stranger with deep dark eyes, promising nature and loving aura into the deep dark dungeon of sorrow...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;sounds like a very good start for a story. I've noticed, my blog seem more like as if I've got nothing but to crib about my damsel in distress situation, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;coz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; here i blame everyone who have made hell outta my life. In fact they do nothing wrong, i believe i turn stronger every time i taste the dust.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Like, for example, I've written about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Shantanu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; here. Honestly i was smitten by him, but soon after i was in a relationship with him i realized, we were perfect, but not for each other. i was the horrid person. Then it was Dev, yeah he was nice i really couldn't get over him for like a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;llong&lt;/span&gt; time, but then someone made me realize after much convincing, how i was missing out on &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;waht&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; i had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;it takes a lot of effort to sit and actually wonder what are the things that perturb you the most, but just one little thing that can pull you out of misery. it depends on what kind of a situation you are in, the little thing can either be an apology you have to make, or just a few things you need to clarify with your ex boyfriend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;my misery is that I feel, something like a relationship can actually make me feel better about myself. But there again I miss out on all my passion for life which actually help me to move on in life. Be it my love for books &amp;amp; music, or helping out friends. I always miss out on these things and crib about not having the perfect guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;And about Dev, an apology i have to make to him. I bothered him by crying about him all the time. The very fact that i could actually move on, saying that,"This guy is gonna have a nice time getting hold of a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;lotta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; chicks, who draw away from men, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;coz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; they think they are gonna hurt them." But no i cried about him all the time, and I'm glad &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; actually taking this step of having a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; chat with him, asking him why he broke up with me. which will be my tiny &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; reason of relief...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;THE END&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;----------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Now playing: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/demonic+resurrection/track/my+misery" title="'Demonic Resurrection - My Misery' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Demonic Resurrection - My Misery&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/" title="FoxyTunes - Web of music at your fingertips"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-823979444838859326?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/823979444838859326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=823979444838859326' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/823979444838859326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/823979444838859326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-misery.html' title='my misery'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-2642526233001040904</id><published>2007-07-28T14:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T08:48:11.488-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving On A Jet Plane...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Ah! that evening was so beautiful infact that whole day, I had my fingers crossed throughout and it did happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;I received a call from him. He wanted to know if I was gonna be there. We planned a date with a walk near the so-called 'Race Track'. Perfect. suddenly for no reason I get this feelin of looking really good. A person like me wouldn't mind wearing pajama's in a mall in broad daylight, but all of a sudden I'm fussing over what to wear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;I picked up the most crumpled t-shirt and the dirtiest pair of jeans i owned only thinking I'll make a horrible ass outta myself. He was in shorts and held the guitar that actually made me go Ga-Ga over him. I so love men in shorts!!! I saw him smoke a whole packet of Marlboro's and i was genuinely not irritated, infact I found it fascinating every time he blew out lil rings in the air to catch my attention, coz i told him how badly i wished i could do that. Every time he passed by, i whisked a lil sniff just too smell him. A really musky and spicy blend with a hint of his smokes. It was splendid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;All i kept wishing for was that lil part when he catches my eye and stares deep into them, but that didn't happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Later that evening, i went for his gig. This time dressed a lil better than the last time. I'd love to see my man wear checks and this guy so was in checks. It was as if all the right strings were being pulled, which reminds me how bad the crowd sucked. The band was throughly disappointed. I hated that expression on his face. i asked his if he could play my favorite song. And he did, even though he didn't have the chords for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;We went for a walk later. He kept brushing his hand against mine. Me a lil less smart to understand it took it away. He pretended to be iinterested in the bruise on my hand, finding a great oppotunity to hold my hand, thus finally hinting me, he was INTERESTED!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;It rained. It was beautiful. We still smile when we pass under the very tree he kissed me under.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;He hates saying goodbye, and says i always rush off like its nobody's business.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;He loves listening to me say poof&lt;/span&gt;&lt;an style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;. i love seeing him imitate bugs bunny. He loves navigating his way back home when im riding. I love those lil things he does to make me feel like i'm the one.(I do hope i am).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the way we sing this song, coz it ends at "...dunno when I'll be back again...". That's coz none of us know the lyrics.....&lt;/an&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-2642526233001040904?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/2642526233001040904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=2642526233001040904' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/2642526233001040904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/2642526233001040904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2007/07/leaving-on-jet-plane.html' title='Leaving On A Jet Plane...'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-8764979287123573323</id><published>2007-07-13T08:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T08:47:43.935-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I regret...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I regret having loved someone so much, that i can't even move on with what I have in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I regret making someone soar so high, that now,when I wanna leave his side, all his castles built in mid air, might come crashing down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I regret becoming what I've become and being helpless to not stop myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I regret blaming myself for mistakes other people have made.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I regret not being selfish enough to be happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I regret letting in people into the darkest corners of my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I regret letting them walk all over me, leaving me to cry alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;But I don't regret being alone, of taking all that crap, of being confused, of hating myself so much that I can slit my wrists and watch me creep into the land of the dead or of all those mistakes I've made, coz at the end of the day it only makes me stronger...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-8764979287123573323?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/8764979287123573323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=8764979287123573323' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/8764979287123573323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/8764979287123573323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-regret.html' title='I regret...'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-5664389862972120294</id><published>2007-07-09T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T08:46:41.758-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Soul Food</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Bah.... life without music seems completely pointless. Am seriously gonna screw the living happiness outta that sify guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Suprisingly, college seems to be fun now. Besides the general randomness, I realised how I 'wanna' study (yeah yeah you can stop guffawing your ass off). I still haven't got my ID, so we're supposed to carry this 'fee- receipt' thing, that gives ous our lost identity( sounds dramatic eh?). Major discoveries that follow, guys at H.R. college are mmmmmmmmuuuuccchhh better looking than the K.C. guys. Added advantages to that, all our lectures are being held at the H. R. building(he he). So every morning my day starts with this really cute guy, with a baritone voice asking me for my full name. I wonder why :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;I finally found  company. It's actually saved my life to some extent. Trust me,i could've gone without talkin to anyone for the whole year, which is only possible if im provided with the right amount of music, right books(please not stuff like,"A hundred years in Solitude" it was all about people renaming kids after themselves and later having incest relationships with them) and the right amount of caffeine. Right now, i guess our favorite hangout is outside the cultural club office(not bigger than my toilet) on the fifth floor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;But at the same time, i miss being intelligent( like Sharang says,"Proch, you don't study being an arts student. It ruins your reputation). I miss running around for calculators and calculating 689x45 mentally. I miss wearing a tie to school, which also means i hate deciding what to wear every morning, coz its impossible for a person like me to be conscious about what to wear, but ultimately I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;phew!!! style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad i'm confused, coz, confusion personifies me!!!&lt;/phew!!!&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-5664389862972120294?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/5664389862972120294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=5664389862972120294' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/5664389862972120294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/5664389862972120294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2007/07/bah.html' title='Soul Food'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-7072879543479823805</id><published>2007-06-23T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T08:45:34.801-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shanty Panty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Shanty, my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;new found&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; glory. The only person who makes my heart soar so high, i have no clue where its reached. Meeting him was the biggest co incidence &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; ever taken place in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I always cherish the first times, he thought i was an immature brat, who had no clue about herself let alone the world (isn't he so right). I thought he was a attitude filled Manchester United chauvinist, blinded by their glory. But we clicked... immediately,right away,there and then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;But then we parted again. He was caught with college, me with new discoveries in my life. It was football that brought us back together, a match that was beautiful and victory was ours (Ac Milan!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kaka&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; did wonders).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Then the second session. Blackberry &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hukka&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;, bandstand, hand in hand, warm stares and actions that screamed louder than words. It was perfect. It was meant to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;The very next day, in my worst attire and lowest finances we had lunch at a fancy place and paid exact change (the only excuse, students don't tip). The ride back home in the cab was filled with vague moments. Why was I so uneasy with the fact that he was holding my hand, was it fear or plain excuse to avoid another guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Then around 30 minutes later, the BIG question, "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Proch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;, Would you go out with me?" ( only after my indication did it come up) and  then the approval.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Shanty was there all along. He's seen me get past every relationship i had (all of which turned out to be horrible). Even as i wept about how my hugest crush refused to go out with me for the 4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; time. He says he loves me, but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;I'll&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; take time. Only because i want to feel what i say to him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-7072879543479823805?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/7072879543479823805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=7072879543479823805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/7072879543479823805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/7072879543479823805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2007/06/shanty-panty.html' title='Shanty Panty'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-5061287319142848390</id><published>2007-06-23T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T08:44:36.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>water water everywhere....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;i loooooove the rains.... They give me a high like nothing else in this world (i mean it not even satriani's strumming). A perfect day starts off when the princess wakes up to fake a headache and ditch college, sleeps till the wee early hours of afternoon, gorges down her favorite meal and sets off for another fun filled evening. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Today I watched the brothers play. Whacko and Chocolate boy. Whacko is the elder one and my bestest buddy( honestly nothing more than that ;) ) chocolate boy is adorable and my partner in crime when it comes to playing any game against Whacko and Whackiness (his partner in crime and secret admirer). But watching the brothers play is like watching the latest episode of Star Wars. You are dying to see what's in store for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;A few observations made by me:-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;-&gt; Whacko keeps his cool while playing. A silent stratergist and a sport who accepts defeat like he savours victory.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;-&gt; Chocolate boy loves saying "C'mon Fight!!!" for some wierd reason. Very agressive and self abusive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;-&gt; Whacko enjoys making an ass outta me. (and i will get back at him for this someday.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;-&gt; Whackiness is always on Whacko's side. (Duhhhh )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Anyway the above observations are highly irrelevent, but i love getting drenched in the rain. We had a lot of pushing around and dragging about. &lt;em&gt;Bhutta&lt;/em&gt; ( corn roasted on coals and rubbed with Indian masalas) has to be a part of the Indian monsoons. there is nothing like a Kodak moment with people grinning into the cameras without realising they have corn stuck in all their teeth...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Finally riding my chariot through the rain, with drops of water hitting my face like needles was annoying. But a long drag of Marlboro lights, ah gimme a better word for Nirvana.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-5061287319142848390?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/5061287319142848390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=5061287319142848390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/5061287319142848390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/5061287319142848390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2007/06/water-water-everywhere.html' title='water water everywhere....'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-4937816415643118970</id><published>2007-06-22T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T08:42:30.727-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sudden changes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;The past one week has been really strange for me. I'm dating someone i never even though i would. Not that he's bad and stuff, but its just too sudden for me. It's plain weird, a casual get together turn to a proposal, next moment I'm dating him. really like him a lot and hoping that we go a long way. then comes this really queer change in my best friend. Till date I still do have the biggest crush on him, but i"ve moved on only coz i knw it'll never work out between the both of us and even my boyfriend knows that. So, all of  a sudden he just shows this real ignorant attitude to me and behaves really 'different' with this other friend of mine, who dotes on him. Anyway that is not a matter of my concern, I just hope he's serious about her coz she really likes him and i really would be happy for them if anything does work out for them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Then there's college, really hectic almost 2 1/2 of travelling everyday, aloofness during class, just a completely different atomosphere around me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I think I'm growing really insecure about myself and everything around me. Selfishness is taking over me. I just wanna live for myself, coz I've seen the outcome of doing everything for the people you call friends all your life. Some make up excuses like they dont have the time, some bring up accusations upon you and some simply tell you to your face that you aren't worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;It seriously doesnt help. Like this great friend of mine always tells me, "People walk into your life to walk out and don't really feel bad when someone walks away, coz you're meant to cherish all the moments u had with them when they were there."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-4937816415643118970?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/4937816415643118970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=4937816415643118970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/4937816415643118970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/4937816415643118970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2007/06/sudden-changes.html' title='sudden changes'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4321212825014271158.post-2687838659717086004</id><published>2007-06-14T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T08:41:17.696-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='first post'/><title type='text'>my first post...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt;Like the title says it, this is my first post. Not a matter of great achievement , but i finally did make the efforts to start off, without the interference of my do nothingness. I did try to start off a 'very exciting venture' of a blog with a friend, but didn't really work out that well, due a few unexplainable reasons. It was really crazy, but one helluvan attempt at joint blog writing....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt;Anyway, writing a blog no longer has that hint of significance that it had about an year back. Today, every buffoon on the road has a blog address. A few blogs actually make me laugh my ass off. Like there was this one started by this real wannabe (no offence to the wannabes, you complete our global pollution), who thought he could attract a Lotta females by putting really weird photos on his profile, of him posing in ways, that pull me back to the 1960 Hindi movies where they had sidekicks dancing with coloured dusters, usually used for cobwebs. His profile boasted of his details, about the way he looked et all. His English was worse than a kindergarten kid. I just had a time of my life laughing at his blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt;I wouldn't want pull this longer now, I'm gonna doze off on my keyboard and drool away to glory which might cause electrocution and so on... till then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4321212825014271158-2687838659717086004?l=explicarse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/feeds/2687838659717086004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4321212825014271158&amp;postID=2687838659717086004' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/2687838659717086004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4321212825014271158/posts/default/2687838659717086004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://explicarse.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-first-post.html' title='my first post...'/><author><name>Vasundhara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05152315492106519909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
