<?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-9094073779156637885</id><updated>2012-02-16T14:31:27.481+05:30</updated><category term='Dreams'/><title type='text'>My Life in bits and pieces</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ankit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14444574791213444479</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>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9094073779156637885.post-1196158879919050055</id><published>2009-04-14T19:32:00.008+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-14T19:59:32.195+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Is it my fault?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was the child-birth ceremony today at their house. Their first grand-child! The baby was beautiful and was looking very pretty in that white frock she was wearing. I wanted to take her in my arms and the desire still remains unfulfilled in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother and father were playing with their lovely grand-daughter. The whole situation and their reactions when I was born flash-backed in my mind which I have imagined so many times over the years that it doesn’t leave any scope of it being even a little fictitious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I had tears in my eyes and I was asking the same questions…Was it my fault that I was born a eunuch? Couldn’t they understand the answer to this simple question? And still, they could leave me just like that? Wasn’t it their responsibility to provide a safe place to protect their child from this cruel world where we are ridiculed, mocked, harassed and abused each and every moment? Was it right for them to leave me in the hands of so called “outcasts” who survive though begging, entertaining in marriages, blessing newly born child and prostitution? Why didn’t they just kill me than to face a life where “life” has no meaning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to know about my birth-parents through one of our impulsive old mate who got extremely angry when my parents didn’t give her enough money during my brother’s wedding and she blurted it out on me saying, “&lt;i&gt;saale, kutte, kamine.. khud ki beti aisi hotey huay bhi, tere maa-baap ko hum jaiso par daya nahi aati.. harami saale.. suar ke bachche&lt;/i&gt;!!” She immediately realized the mistake (Crime is a more apt word to describe this) she had committed, but the damage had been done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends had asked me not to visit them which I had, somehow, managed for the last two years. But today, I just couldn’t stop myself. There I was, laughing over a muscular man who almost ran away seeing us. There I was, almost shedding a tear on hearing some teens giggling and discussing the “composition” of a &lt;i&gt;Hijra. &lt;/i&gt;There I was, with my family but as a strange outsider who has come to entertain them and get some of their hard-earned money (on which, by the way, I should have a share). There I was, blessing my niece and wondering whether she would ever know that she had an aunt. There I was, looking constantly at my parents hoping to see the slightest reaction of losing their daughter. There I was, feeling a lot of things and wanting to feel a lot of others...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;u7:p&gt;&lt;/u7:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;u7:p&gt;&lt;/u7:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9094073779156637885-1196158879919050055?l=ankitzee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/feeds/1196158879919050055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9094073779156637885&amp;postID=1196158879919050055' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/1196158879919050055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/1196158879919050055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/2009/04/is-it-my-fault.html' title='Is it my fault?'/><author><name>Ankit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14444574791213444479</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-9094073779156637885.post-9183981880353308497</id><published>2009-04-06T16:12:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-06T16:23:42.469+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Do you play safe???</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Most of the time, life does not talk to you. It just sort of pushes you around.  Each push is life saying, `Wake up. There's something I want you to learn.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're the kind of person who has no guts, you just give up every time life pushes you. If you're that kind of person, you'll live all your life playing it safe, doing the right things, saving yourself for some event that never happens. Then, you die a boring old man. You'll have lots of friends who really like you because you were such a nice hard-working guy. You spent a life playing it safe, doing the right things. But the truth is, you let life push you into submission.  Deep down you were terrified of taking risks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You really wanted to win, but the fear of losing was greater than the excitement of winning.  Deep inside, you and only you will know you didn't go for it. You chose to play it safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-from the book "Rich Dad Poor Dad"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9094073779156637885-9183981880353308497?l=ankitzee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/feeds/9183981880353308497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9094073779156637885&amp;postID=9183981880353308497' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/9183981880353308497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/9183981880353308497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/2009/04/do-you-play-safe.html' title='Do you play safe???'/><author><name>Ankit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14444574791213444479</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-9094073779156637885.post-7157394693391414044</id><published>2009-04-05T18:18:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-05T18:26:19.465+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Bottled Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The Djinn wanted to run away.. Run away somewhere far, far from his thoughts, far from his feelings, far to freedom! Freedom from the bottle he had corked himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an involuntary decision to stay in and he had liked the time there. He had learnt a lot about the world watching through the not so transparent glass. But, the niche he had built himself had started to irk him enough that he no longer enjoyed any of it. He wanted to break-free but he just couldn’t.. A few times, the cork did open but he didn’t have the courage to jump out..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he stayed there, feeling BOTTLED UP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9094073779156637885-7157394693391414044?l=ankitzee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/feeds/7157394693391414044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9094073779156637885&amp;postID=7157394693391414044' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/7157394693391414044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/7157394693391414044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/2009/04/bottled-up.html' title='Bottled Up'/><author><name>Ankit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14444574791213444479</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9094073779156637885.post-2021159726264330623</id><published>2009-02-14T00:41:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-14T01:10:18.309+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today, it was her birthday. I have been thinking hard for the past few days about what to give her but nothing looked apt for her. I wanted to give her something personal to make her day special and to remember me, always. When we had first met, she was carrying a book of poems by William Wordsworth I happen to remember seeing it in her jute bag. The subconscious is absolutely amazing. It functions in such an exceptional manner that you are always astonished of its power. So, I decided to write her a poem even though I very well knew how much I suck at it. I spent two hours, getting cursed by, god knows, how many trees which were cut to produce the paper I was wasting and still there was nothing worthwhile. And then the power went off. But something lit up in my head and I wrote these lines in that darkness:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;                    Like the sun rays of the dawn&lt;br /&gt;                    You bring life to my spirit.&lt;br /&gt;                   Like a new born child’s yawn&lt;br /&gt;                    You innocent smile makes my eyes lit.&lt;br /&gt;                   Like an iron piece to a magnet, I am drawn&lt;br /&gt;                    towards your honest soul, without any guilt.&lt;br /&gt;                   I Love You, Tamanna&lt;br /&gt;                    And I give you myself as your birthday gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We met at our usual coffee shop at 4. She was wearing a white cotton &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kurta&lt;/span&gt; with a green colored &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dupatta&lt;/span&gt;. Her hair was open resting on her left shoulder. Her nose ring was glittering when the sun rays fell on it. Her face was radiant as always but today, I could see slight redness in her cheeks. It was almost two hours already, we had three cups of coffee but still I couldn’t tell her that I loved her. I wanted to tell her so much, the torment of feelings she has aroused in me since our first meet three months back. I wanted to hold her hand, wanted to kiss her, wanted to say a very silent “happy birthday” almost kissing her ears… But I couldn’t. While parting, I gave her a Wordsworth poetry book. My poem stays in this diary with me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.: Inspired from Ritwik's blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9094073779156637885-2021159726264330623?l=ankitzee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/feeds/2021159726264330623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9094073779156637885&amp;postID=2021159726264330623' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/2021159726264330623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/2021159726264330623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/2009/02/birthday.html' title='Birthday'/><author><name>Ankit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14444574791213444479</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-9094073779156637885.post-9114570332006955301</id><published>2009-01-04T00:56:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-04T10:52:41.446+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Reflections...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The past two-three days, I have received a lot of new year messages each wishing a lot of moments to cherish in the upcoming years. My mind, instead of looking ahead, went an year back and wandered through the memories that the last year offered me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in a terrible state in the beginning with a helluva confusion about my career. To leave Physics after five years of slogging was a tough decision to make but I guess, this time around, I could finally bid adieu to this confusion which had been upsetting me for almost the last one and half years or so..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brother's wedding bells rung in early march and the frequent trips to home were great fun! Also, gave me the opportunity to get myself updated with the latest family/relatives news which you loose out staying away!! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the semester got over, we planned a small two day trip to Agra and fatehpur sikri. Eight enthusiastic guys with a lil taste in history plus the magnificent Taj and the Mughal architecture meant an amazing trip and it, indeed, was. In May, met few college friends in CP during one of my rare day outs while I am at home. What I distinctly remember about that day is the one hour walk around CP, talking with Alok about 'n' number of things and  it was quite relieving.  Thanks to Prachi (who convinced me to go) and Sunit (the organisor), I went on the Rafting trip with my school group and had an AWESOME time!! Everyone should go rafting atleast once!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of first quarter, when I was done with my doubts, I started looking for an internship to get an acquaintance with the corporate world. Applied for almost 2 months continuously without any success. Got extremely bugged and just when I had given up, Alok and Shashwat made sure that I get a chance to intern with Deloitte. The next one and half months were probably the bestest time of the year!! The stay in Katwaria is definitely among the top answers to the query: Things you would remember for life!! And I guess that says it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Met Shivam after almost an year and it felt as if "kal hi toh mile thay!" Its effortless and thats the best thing about it. Back to IIT, third semester was pretty boring. The night out at Ritwik's place in october break was again a moment where my memory slowed its pace and made me recall the convo. It was good to realize that some people do understand others even when  they are not in touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I have almost given the whole account of the last year but refrained myself from talking about  the "not so good" times. It's good in a way.. All in all, the last year had a lot to offer: There were times when I was happy and times I was sad.. Times I was content and times I was angry... Times I rejoiced and times I wanna forget.. Times when I liked everything and times I hated them...Times I had fun and times I was bugged... Times I wanna share and times I won't... Times when I expected a lot and times I realized the limits.. and a lot other times when a vortex of feelings passed through.. But, I just hope there was never a time when I didn't grow!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9094073779156637885-9114570332006955301?l=ankitzee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/feeds/9114570332006955301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9094073779156637885&amp;postID=9114570332006955301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/9114570332006955301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/9114570332006955301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/2009/01/reflections.html' title='Reflections...'/><author><name>Ankit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14444574791213444479</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-9094073779156637885.post-5312170450258813366</id><published>2009-01-02T22:47:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-02T23:52:23.133+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Boozed out!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iPA845QRgXY/SV5axvwGBII/AAAAAAAAAW4/K49h49DEFjk/s1600-h/DSC00906.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iPA845QRgXY/SV5axvwGBII/AAAAAAAAAW4/K49h49DEFjk/s320/DSC00906.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286762823257818242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31st Night '08. Ten of us. On a chilly roof. White Rum, red Rum and Dinner. I wanted to get high tonight. Rupal had started talking funnily just after the first two while 5-6 pegs didn't have any remarkable effect on me! The last two drinks did the trick as I gulped down the first one in one shot and the second was almost neat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember exactly what happened next but as told by the sane drinkers later, the story goes something like this : Being "Happy high" in the beginning, I was hugging everyone around. "I love shaon" was almost like my motto! Begged shaon to change the classical piece he was listening. After that, two of them were carrying me downstairs and I started counting stairs in a new counting scheme which goes like- one, four, five... They locked me in abhinandan's room while I banged the door shouting not to leave me alone!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worse part was that I puked while sleeping and spoiled the room. The hangover lasted quite a while and I woke up around 5 in the eve.. Played some basketball later and again went to bed around 9 with an acute headache! Everything fine the next morn. Thats how I spent the new year- getting sloshed for the first time in my 22 years!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9094073779156637885-5312170450258813366?l=ankitzee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/feeds/5312170450258813366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9094073779156637885&amp;postID=5312170450258813366' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/5312170450258813366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/5312170450258813366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/2009/01/31st-night-08.html' title='Boozed out!!!'/><author><name>Ankit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14444574791213444479</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iPA845QRgXY/SV5axvwGBII/AAAAAAAAAW4/K49h49DEFjk/s72-c/DSC00906.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9094073779156637885.post-1476742138519833950</id><published>2008-12-01T23:20:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-12-01T23:29:54.959+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Thought</title><content type='html'>Human beings are designed for many things but loneliness isn't one of them!&lt;br /&gt;Heard it today and kept me thinking how true it is...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9094073779156637885-1476742138519833950?l=ankitzee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/feeds/1476742138519833950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9094073779156637885&amp;postID=1476742138519833950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/1476742138519833950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/1476742138519833950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/2008/12/thought.html' title='Thought'/><author><name>Ankit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14444574791213444479</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-9094073779156637885.post-6562676575577799978</id><published>2008-09-23T13:57:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-09-23T13:59:56.575+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><title type='text'>Weird Dreams!! :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dreams are interestingly funny!!! I'm a firm believer that "dreams have meanings" but somehow some dreams just don't make any sense and left you feel perplexed.. This is what i saw a few days (nights) back and m sure it'll make you laugh until your stomach hurts! Here it goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was back home from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;IIT&lt;/span&gt; in some vacations and I see that there was a party going on in my house. This house was bigger than my actual house and was much darker. Anyways, then what happened was, my dad asked for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; attention. And asked my two elder brothers and their wives to come on the stage(I actually have one bro and don't know when was this imaginary brother and his wife were born!).. then he called me and also a girl who's slightly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;chinky&lt;/span&gt; looking, short height, wearing a knee length skirt and has a very child-like face. To my extreme shock, my dad announced her as my fiancee!! Couldn't react at all! Apparently, the girl was doing an MBA in mumbai somewhere and we knew each other somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took my parents to another room and told them things like- How cud you do this with out asking me? I don't even know her properly.. She looks so immature and childish etc etc.. and told them that I'm calling it off and before announcing that to public, I'll talk to "my fiancee".. So i went upstairs with her who was, apparently, very happy.. Broke the sad news, shattering her moment and before she could cry, I was back in my conscious world!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird! :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9094073779156637885-6562676575577799978?l=ankitzee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/feeds/6562676575577799978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9094073779156637885&amp;postID=6562676575577799978' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/6562676575577799978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/6562676575577799978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/2008/09/weird-dreams.html' title='Weird Dreams!! :)'/><author><name>Ankit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14444574791213444479</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-9094073779156637885.post-8041032180581660305</id><published>2008-09-21T00:48:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-09-21T01:30:03.026+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Blogging...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This is my first attempt to write a blog, for that matter, anything that can be read by other people. The thought of starting my own blog has crossed my mind n number of times in the last one and half years but I just couldn't do it. The reason being I don't think writing is my cup of tea! At one point in my school time, I started writing a Diary (as everyone does in his/her life, I guess) and wrote 3-4 posts. But whenever I used to pick it up for penning down my new experiences, I used to spent some time going through my older posts and used to find them so stupid that I used to tear off those pages! :) This happened for 5-6 posts and one fine day, I tore all the ones that were left and stopped writing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But over the years I realized that we always find our past thoughts and ways we used to see things as terribly childish and nonsensical. and we often wonder, "Was that me? I used to think like that!! Oh My Gawd!" And we laugh over them.. One very common example is our slam-books!! Each and everything that you had once written (thinking that it sounds really good) makes you laugh like anything.  "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My ambition is- to shine like a star in the sky!&lt;/span&gt;" As my school friends say (reading these kinda statements now), "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;isko maar do.. iski ye iccha to hum poori kar dete hain&lt;/span&gt;" :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the same cycle continues as we grow older and older. And we completely forget what we were like ten years back! Aquila had once pointed out that reading her diary gives her immense happiness seeing how much she has grown (actually) over the years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm starting my blog to overcome my inhibitions to write and the embarrassment of others making fun of it. More importantly, to discover myself. Hopefully, I'll be strong enough not to delete the blog after a few days and continue sharing my life with you  and myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Alok, Aquila, Shivam and Himani for putting the thought of starting a blog sometime last year!! I take time to convert a thought into action!! :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9094073779156637885-8041032180581660305?l=ankitzee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/feeds/8041032180581660305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9094073779156637885&amp;postID=8041032180581660305' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/8041032180581660305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9094073779156637885/posts/default/8041032180581660305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ankitzee.blogspot.com/2008/09/blogging.html' title='Blogging...'/><author><name>Ankit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14444574791213444479</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>8</thr:total></entry></feed>
