<?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-3556734789235003379</id><updated>2012-02-09T22:31:44.925-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Memoirs Of a Nomad</title><subtitle type='html'>I am a Nomad not by travelling through rough seas and arid deserts but by my wandering thoughts. By the Paralysis of analysis and then the analysis of the paralysis. The mind travels farther than a body ever can.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>J</name><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>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3556734789235003379.post-2142464215871176727</id><published>2012-02-09T20:02:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T22:31:45.035-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Phantasmagoria</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 14px;"&gt;"We tell ourselves stories in order to live...We look for the sermon in the suicide, for the social or moral lesson in the murder of five. We interpret what we see, select the most workable of the multiple choices. We live entirely, especially if we are writers, by the imposition of a narrative line upon disparate images, by the "ideas" with which we have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria which is our actual experience." - Joan Didion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 14px;"&gt;Sometimes i think the one of the main reason i like this quote from Joan Didion in her book The White Album, is because of the word Phantasmagoria. I am not sure, how people fall in love with a word, maybe its the way it sounds, maybe its because words are a poets currency,maybe its because of the power of a single world to explain, what that could not be expressed in a thousand sentences.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 14px;"&gt;Life is a Phantasmagoria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 14px;"&gt;I recently saw a bunch of pics in Facebook about the kid with a specific type of cancer. Those were horrible pics and most of the comments was requests to take it down. Everybody knows that this kind of things happens and its the fact of life. But why do we run away from seeing it. Why do we earn so much to make our own version of an happy reality and lie to ourselves to be happy. If Life was supposed to be a Phantasmagoria, why did i buy a ticket to the puppet show.&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/3556734789235003379-2142464215871176727?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/2142464215871176727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=2142464215871176727&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2142464215871176727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2142464215871176727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2012/02/phantasmagoria.html' title='Phantasmagoria'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-1181830886587741162</id><published>2011-06-02T15:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T15:53:22.761-04:00</updated><title type='text'>There is something about chennai'ish style</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ZFV8heOlz8w" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1AbsFDVeQHc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JdCTdX8G3YI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;more to come still searching for that tea stall video...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-1181830886587741162?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/1181830886587741162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=1181830886587741162&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/1181830886587741162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/1181830886587741162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2011/06/there-is-something-about-chennaiish.html' title='There is something about chennai&apos;ish style'/><author><name>J</name><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://img.youtube.com/vi/ZFV8heOlz8w/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3556734789235003379.post-3910383561775383160</id><published>2011-05-18T14:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T14:51:59.528-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The bridges we build.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: normal; "&gt;Why we  do, What we do ! Afterall all of us are building a bridge of our own...to be usefull for someone else....or  Are we ? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HBX8bMM5-ik"&gt;&lt;iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/HBX8bMM5-ik" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is a strange question, It can either act as an moral compass for the decisions we make in our lives or even make us drown under the pressure of answering it honestly. The real danger of asking these question, is the state of Paralysis by Analysis. Asking the question is one thing but then answering it honestly, takes it to a whole different level. It is hard to leave the shadow of a lie we have convinced ourselves to believe in.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; Sometimes doing things for no apparent reason feels good as well and seems to be the only way to move forward and be happy. But then i really wonder if things happen without a reason, is there an effect without an cause ?  The reason sleeps deep in our subconscious. We all have our reasons, but we may not be able to put a finger on it every time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-3910383561775383160?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/3910383561775383160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=3910383561775383160&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/3910383561775383160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/3910383561775383160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2011/05/bridges-we-build.html' title='The bridges we build.....'/><author><name>J</name><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://img.youtube.com/vi/HBX8bMM5-ik/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3556734789235003379.post-2414071034492050259</id><published>2010-12-27T12:10:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T12:24:59.299-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks to NPR - thisibelive</title><content type='html'>My love for Radio has been a rewarding one. I continue to be reminded of the "indru oru thagaval" stories now and then and reminding myself of the right thing to do in many situation. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So i was not surprised to see another section in NPR which i have begun to follow very closely and look forward everyweek, No its not wait wait dont tell me. Its the Thisibelive essays. Its a worthy essays with a new person everyweek. From this week i liked theses sentences a lot. they make a lot of sense. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;"But then I remember balancing a behavioral checkbook is detrimental to my happiness. If I’m constantly keeping count of what I feel I’m entitled to, I may never be satisfied. If I’m blessed beyond what I deserve I might never feel worthy. I must remind myself that I know better. "&lt;/i&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/3556734789235003379-2414071034492050259?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/2414071034492050259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=2414071034492050259&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2414071034492050259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2414071034492050259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2010/12/thanks-to-npr-thisibelive.html' title='Thanks to NPR - thisibelive'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-5691752296319186119</id><published>2010-12-05T18:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-05T18:36:12.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Journey - Louis Vuitton Ad</title><content type='html'>Of all the people LV came up with an excellent Ad. It was a nice little poem. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/m5xCGZuvhWI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/m5xCGZuvhWI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is a journey ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A journey is not a trip&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its not Vacation&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its a process. A discovery&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its a process of Self discovery&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A journey brings us face to face - With ourselves&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A journey shows us not only the world &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but how we fit in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Does the person create the journey ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or does the journey create the person ? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The journey is life itself &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where will Life take you ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-5691752296319186119?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/5691752296319186119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=5691752296319186119&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5691752296319186119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5691752296319186119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2010/12/journey-louis-vuitton-ad.html' title='The Journey - Louis Vuitton Ad'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-2845236485923185142</id><published>2010-11-27T13:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T14:07:25.063-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Invention of Morality - Precursor</title><content type='html'>When i was in my 10th grade i was introduced to Mahatma Gandhi's "My experiments with truth" and i think i was more troubled by it that anything. If i ever meet Gandhi i always wanted to ask him why did he call his book that way ? "Experiments". As i grow up, i think ( a huge assumption) i understand why he called it that way. Because there is nothing like an ultimate truth, there is nothing like an ultimate singular moral life to be lived. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everybody will face a situation when they will have to Invent their own morality. Our choices invent our morality. We do it everyday when we choose to hide the truth from the people we love so that we dont hurt them. We do it when we are proud of our military. We do it when we buy that very expensive dress/gadget we have been longing for ages when we know there are people dieing of starvation. And many more ways we haven't yet realized. Yes i am an hypocrite. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The problem is that we dont have a book of right and wrong. Nobody knows about it, Nobody is perfect, no situation is perfect, no relationship is perfect.(geek alert) There is no perfect single crystal in existance. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The invention of morality happens in those moments of life when things are beyond our control. These would be my short stories to depict some of those situations, that bound only by the hard choices people have to make. The morality is in the eyes of the beholder, beyond those purple glasses and the grey mask he is wearing.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-2845236485923185142?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/2845236485923185142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=2845236485923185142&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2845236485923185142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2845236485923185142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2010/11/invention-of-morality-precursor.html' title='The Invention of Morality - Precursor'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-942696393094299124</id><published>2009-07-08T15:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T11:06:59.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What is happiness?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;An excerpt from Paulo cohelo's Blog. &lt;a href="http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2009/07/08/what-is-happiness/"&gt;http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2009/07/08/what-is-happiness/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I recall the words of Jorge Luis Borges: “I will not be happy any more, but that doesn’t matter, / there are many other things in this world”.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-942696393094299124?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/942696393094299124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=942696393094299124&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/942696393094299124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/942696393094299124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-is-happiness.html' title='What is happiness?'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-6463439434916815270</id><published>2008-12-27T16:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T17:22:26.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Multiple worlds</title><content type='html'>Yesterday i was talking to A and D while watching the movie Alien Vs Predator. and both of them were saying that Scifi Movies are a boring type of movies which doesn't make any sense. And things like Starwars and X men are crap. I have always had  a group of friends who like them and who doesnt. I think i can like them/dislike them at the same time. What does that make me? Thats a question for another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up in a big city in india or living in newyork makes you appriciate how diverse the world is.  And one of the diverse things which we miss to see is not just the diverse culture but the diverse Taste/viewpoints/interests of people(maybe of the same culture). And i guess the Taste/viewpoints/interests depends on what kind of experience u had when u grew up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We cannot have all of that experience in our small life, is too short for that. When we brand things and draw Strict walls against stuff it shrink's ur perspective and ends the possibility of seeing a whole new world. When we say this is what i like and not that ,do we close a door to see an another new world ? May be we saw it and we did not like it, then what does "like" actually mean. "Like" is the opinions we have formed based upon our experiences.  Experience &gt; Opinions&gt; likes/dislikes it just seems like a big circle. When i have a different experience my opinions will change and when i have a different opinion i will experience the same situation in a different way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v203/earthelemental99/SwampThing/MultipleEarths.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 209px; height: 140px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v203/earthelemental99/SwampThing/MultipleEarths.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It is a gift to have the ability to see the world through the eyes of others. Because when we do there is not just one world anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-6463439434916815270?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/6463439434916815270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=6463439434916815270&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/6463439434916815270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/6463439434916815270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/12/multiple-worlds.html' title='Multiple worlds'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-7684397571088482145</id><published>2008-12-09T00:03:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T12:33:32.403-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A basket of memories</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_B3zBBdPjKlw/TOFu5yWIqiI/AAAAAAAABlU/ArMX2Qks7Ek/s1600/42910479_ec5f6b739b%255B1%255D.jpg_v%253D0"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 126px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_B3zBBdPjKlw/TOFu5yWIqiI/AAAAAAAABlU/ArMX2Qks7Ek/s200/42910479_ec5f6b739b%255B1%255D.jpg_v%253D0" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539830955688634914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The fluttering flame&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vanishing light of a dieing candle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Guiding light of a light house&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seeds of consequence&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Consequences of the seeds&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Disappearing darkness of the sunrise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Creeping darkness of the susnset.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The victory march&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The aftermath&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A basket of memories&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The bottomless pit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/3556734789235003379-7684397571088482145?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/7684397571088482145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=7684397571088482145&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/7684397571088482145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/7684397571088482145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/12/basket-of-memories.html' title='A basket of memories'/><author><name>J</name><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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_B3zBBdPjKlw/TOFu5yWIqiI/AAAAAAAABlU/ArMX2Qks7Ek/s72-c/42910479_ec5f6b739b%255B1%255D.jpg_v%253D0' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3556734789235003379.post-1205154138978480477</id><published>2008-11-07T23:33:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T15:37:01.322-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain or No rain</title><content type='html'>It was the summer of 2001. There was a severe drought in chennai and we did not have any water in our wells. Every drop of water had to come from outside from a common borewell pump. So i had to pump water mannually and bring them on cycle to my home. It was one of the worst times, and i remember how everybody in my family suffered and spent so much time to have water in the house. It was so much demaning physically and emotionally as everybody in the street is competing for the limited water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished for rain so much that, it was the only thing i prayed for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.eontarionow.com/images/Rain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 506px; height: 338px;" src="http://www.eontarionow.com/images/Rain.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the Fall of 2008. Fall has done its magic and the leaves had turned into multiple colors, job well donw fall. But then something happened which ruined it all. It had rained for the last couple of days and due to the rain the dry leaves of fall had fallen down faster than usual. The trees are not as beautiful now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then i said "stupid rain it spoiled the whole fall colors !!! " before i realised the irony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess thats life. I was thinking about the usual confution , When people from two nations in war pray for a win what does GOD do ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-1205154138978480477?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/1205154138978480477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=1205154138978480477&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/1205154138978480477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/1205154138978480477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/11/rain-or-no-rain.html' title='Rain or No rain'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-3878326421713612592</id><published>2008-10-29T19:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T20:15:28.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You never really know someone until you know someone .....</title><content type='html'>Recently i met this person who must be in their 40's whom i have lot of respect for. She had the most amazing calm voice ever. I definitely think the days of calm patient women have gone away  with my mothers generation and they have become such endangered species in my generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the story is not that. She has such calming voice that u would think nothing can disturb her peace like a zen master. I am sure if she goes to a place of war and talk then people will just stop and listen............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then i came to know that she is a kickboxer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess you can never know someone unless you know someone ....... does that even make any sense !!!!!!1&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-3878326421713612592?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/3878326421713612592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=3878326421713612592&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/3878326421713612592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/3878326421713612592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/10/you-never-really-know-someone-until-you.html' title='You never really know someone until you know someone .....'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-7218581449574259000</id><published>2008-09-29T04:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T04:20:03.901-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I just wish i could moment !!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B3zBBdPjKlw/SOCPQrej0DI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6BZtMr3-o7c/s1600-h/48cc55c4f287dad3deb5fd65f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B3zBBdPjKlw/SOCPQrej0DI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6BZtMr3-o7c/s200/48cc55c4f287dad3deb5fd65f.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251354682225578034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Been closely watching US elections. Its almost like a movie with Mcain doing interesting stunts to a patient obama. Will obama get back at him ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-7218581449574259000?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/7218581449574259000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=7218581449574259000&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/7218581449574259000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/7218581449574259000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-just-wish-i-could-moment.html' title='I just wish i could moment !!!!'/><author><name>J</name><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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B3zBBdPjKlw/SOCPQrej0DI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6BZtMr3-o7c/s72-c/48cc55c4f287dad3deb5fd65f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3556734789235003379.post-5921829764115853283</id><published>2008-09-08T00:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T00:13:19.561-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If you always want what you can't have, what do you want when you can have anything?</title><content type='html'>I got a chance to watch half of this movie "Primer" it was great concept. Did not get time to watch the rest. Things have been going above my head lately. But i guess its a good movie to watch just the half and go over things many times in your head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concept of the movie is that two people accidental invented a time machine. What is the first thing they want to do ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would u or i do at such a moment ?  world peace ! So HOW will u do it ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was a interesting question to think about !!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-5921829764115853283?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/5921829764115853283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=5921829764115853283&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5921829764115853283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5921829764115853283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/09/if-you-always-want-what-you-cant-have.html' title='If you always want what you can&apos;t have, what do you want when you can have anything?'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-2211132169169797394</id><published>2008-08-30T11:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T11:52:39.807-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The joy of small things</title><content type='html'>When someone says whats life yaaaaaaaaaaar nothing is happening interesting i tend to move away from them. There are lots of these small things in life which brought you genuine happiness when we were kids !! to list a few of them ...... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Listening to radio or a playlist and not knowing whats the next song....... then your fav song is played....... then you sing loudly with the song ....... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Both you and your friend come up with the same though and express it in the same words at the same time ........ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. That silly bugger of a bug flying around in the room and everybody trying to catch it ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. when you ordered food in hotel one of your friends order something really bad tasting food served in the hotel...... (yeah trust me it is fun when you were a kid)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. that frog shaped spill on you white uniform..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess the secret is to keep the kid in you alive.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-2211132169169797394?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/2211132169169797394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=2211132169169797394&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2211132169169797394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2211132169169797394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/08/joy-of-small-things.html' title='The joy of small things'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-6726667779697735567</id><published>2008-08-30T10:55:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T11:13:28.996-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Reopening Day</title><content type='html'>I have been in school for 3 years now. As usual we(all the students) were sitting in this colloquium after the summer break. And somehow i got reminded of my first days in school when new students came this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my first few months i never understood these lectures from professors who were from various universities. As i would not understand i would ask people around me what does it mean by X, Y or Z or whats the concept behind it. Later i learned the trick of the trade that even if you don't understand you shouldn't ask these question, because you are letting others know that you don't know stuff. May be i am novice in thinking otherwise but maybe that IS how world works. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there is something else which seems more valuable to me &gt; the joy of knowing new things, a new concept, a new theory, a new word, a new gesture(or gang sign :)).... a new person. So if you don't dig deeper be happy to miss those diamonds you may find in the mines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the most interesting people i have found always had this great thirst to know stuff, their interest may vary from different food items to latest software to quantum physics. These are one of those simple things you can use to know a person better. (another simple method is to see how they shop in a supermarket or clothing store..... think about it !!! )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-6726667779697735567?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/6726667779697735567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=6726667779697735567&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/6726667779697735567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/6726667779697735567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/08/reopening-day.html' title='Reopening Day'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-5665425942172901448</id><published>2008-07-07T19:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T11:08:30.183-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When you put it that way ..</title><content type='html'>Whom do you think in their right minds would choose to go from a very good urban city to a place which has a no electricity, No restroom in sight, an area full of bugs, there is not even a proper kitchen or a fan or a tubelight or even a cellular signal ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went for camping, it was a very good fun experience&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-5665425942172901448?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/5665425942172901448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=5665425942172901448&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5665425942172901448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5665425942172901448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/07/whom-do-you-think-in-their-right-minds.html' title='When you put it that way ..'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-6605233475620586918</id><published>2008-06-26T18:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T22:40:17.895-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Farmer building robots and driving Planes</title><content type='html'>I came across this story where a farmer has been building robots on his own without any formal education. Eccentric yes.......but smart hell yeah ....c for urself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y4LIThTB8Ww&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y4LIThTB8Ww&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i dont know is this is fake or real some farmer flying a plane which seems like he himself built it. seems like a fake for me but if its true thats great&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SqrAA0xDKmE&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SqrAA0xDKmE&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-6605233475620586918?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/6605233475620586918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=6605233475620586918&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/6605233475620586918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/6605233475620586918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/06/farmer-building-planes-and-driving.html' title='Farmer building robots and driving Planes'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-5981427723036527158</id><published>2008-06-26T11:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T11:51:55.005-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Things i like</title><content type='html'>After writing my blog entry "Few Things" (http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/06/few-things.html), I have been thinking that i should add a lot more to the list i said as i enjoy the most, every five minutes i keep coming up with something,  specially how the hell did i forget that i love to music......... then i realized something..... I enjoy so many things to just make a list..... Simply i enjoy my life so much that its hard to pinpoint things........I enjoy my life &gt; the real part , the imaginary part and beyond........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and tlaking about music listen to this piece from Requim of a dream, good movie and a great soundtrack. The movie is available free at hulu.com (yep its legal) http://www.hulu.com/watch/13015/requiem-for-a-dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Go_GB_KbczQ&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Go_GB_KbczQ&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-5981427723036527158?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/5981427723036527158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=5981427723036527158&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5981427723036527158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5981427723036527158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/06/things-i-like.html' title='Things i like'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-1607217323238346475</id><published>2008-06-25T16:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T16:46:19.352-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Indru oru thagaval and me .....</title><content type='html'>When i was a kid i was not allowed to play games with other kids for a REASON. But i think it helped me in a way that i started observing things in extreme detail, These days i have some of my friends tell me i intimidate them by my stare or by trying to read their mind. Quite funny assumption i guess...... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had lot of time just sitting and contemplating things like a mad man. Specially stories which had a ending which made u think a lot, I could always hear such stories in All India Radio, courtesy of Thenkatchi swaminathan, To my mind he was a very very intelligent man, so direct to point and funny at the same time. His segment ran just 5 mins daily in the radio but he managed to put in a few stories a few strange facts and the ending is always funny. He was a Paulo Cohelo of short stories. Today i found a story in paulo cohelo's blog which i had heard from thenkatchi years ago... here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; A merchant sent his son to learn the Secret of Happiness from the wisest of men. The young man wandered through the desert for forty days until he reached a beautiful castle at the top of a mountain. There lived the sage that the young man was looking for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, instead of finding a holy man, our hero entered a room and saw a great deal of activity; merchants coming and going, people chatting in the corners, a small orchestra playing sweet melodies, and there was a table laden with the most delectable dishes of that part of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wise man talked to everybody, and the young man had to wait for two hours until it was time for his audience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With considerable patience, he listened attentively to the reason for the boy’s visit, but told him that at that moment he did not have the time to explain to him the Secret of Happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He suggested that the young man take a stroll around his palace and come back in two hours’ time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“However, I want to ask you a favor,” he added, handing the boy a teaspoon, in which he poured two drops of oil. “While you walk, carry this spoon and don’t let the oil spill.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young man began to climb up and down the palace staircases, always keeping his eyes fixed on the spoon. At the end of two hours he returned to the presence of the wise man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So,” asked the sage, “did you see the Persian tapestries hanging in my dining room? Did you see the garden that the Master of Gardeners took ten years to create? Did you notice the beautiful parchments in my library?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Embarrassed, the young man confessed that he had seen nothing. His only concern was not to spill the drops of oil that the wise man had entrusted to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So, go back and see the wonders of my world,” said the wise man. “You can’t trust a man if you don’t know his house.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now more at ease, the young man took the spoon and strolled again through the palace, this time paying attention to all the works of art that hung from the ceiling and walls. He saw the gardens, the mountains all around the palace, the delicacy of the flowers, the taste with which each work of art was placed in its niche. Returning to the sage, he reported in detail all that he had seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But where are the two drops of oil that I entrusted to you?” asked the sage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking down at the spoon, the young man realized that he had spilled the oil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, that is the only advice I have to give you,” said the sage of sages. “The Secret of Happiness lies in looking at all the wonders of the world and never forgetting the two drops of oil in the spoon.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-1607217323238346475?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/1607217323238346475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=1607217323238346475&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/1607217323238346475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/1607217323238346475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/06/indru-oru-thagaval-and-me.html' title='Indru oru thagaval and me .....'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-984840157399458534</id><published>2008-06-23T21:51:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T21:56:10.802-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The joy of doing something for no particular reason</title><content type='html'>I envy this guy matt from www.wherethehellismatt.com . In 2005 he left his job traveled around the world and made a viral video of him dancing in many places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Wj8gHLiLlYE&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Wj8gHLiLlYE&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Stride sponsored him to do it once more in many other places u can find that video here.(http://youtube.com/watch?v=lbKG-UUWV6A) . They came out with the latest one where ....watch urself to understand why people do something without a purpose just for fun its a lot of fun :) there is a high definition version in his site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zlfKdbWwruY&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zlfKdbWwruY&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-984840157399458534?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/984840157399458534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=984840157399458534&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/984840157399458534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/984840157399458534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/06/joy-os-doing-something-for-no-reason-at.html' title='The joy of doing something for no particular reason'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-5881733102924030476</id><published>2008-06-22T05:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T05:18:21.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Few things</title><content type='html'>There are few things i enjoy a lot , like listening to someone who is really intelligent and makes a lot of sense when they talk - who knows what they want in their life, a good book, a night at the beach, a good discussion with a friend, good food, a destination-less walk, a well made movie and a couple of other things :). In the list the only thing i get to do often is to watch a well made movie, other things are pretty rare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In that list i recently watched a movie called Bella. It was a wonderful movie and i liked a scene from it particularly a lot. The main characters in the plot meet a blind beggar who makes paper art in the street. He asks one of the charactor "Would you like one of these paper art frog ?". She doesn't have any cash so she replies can not buy it. Then he tells her that he could give her one for free if she spends some time describing the surrounding to him. she is glad and starts describing the surrounding, "Its the usual city nothing special , everybody hurrying to their work, as usual the cars are running fast in a hurry , the usual signals and stuff.. nothing big" ..... the blind begger replies. "wow i wish i could see that!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the things we take for granted , the small things left unsaid can change and cheer someone else day. I rememeber i wrote a poem once in this theame (http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2007/05/invisibility.html) .And u can find a similar incident in Ab blog too(http://worldofabhijit.blogspot.com/2008/06/moment-to-appreciate.html)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-5881733102924030476?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/5881733102924030476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=5881733102924030476&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5881733102924030476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5881733102924030476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/06/few-things.html' title='Few things'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-373994737897472095</id><published>2008-06-08T00:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T01:00:08.741-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A story so chilling...</title><content type='html'>I was watching TV in my hotel. And i came across this program Cult killer. Its a horrifying story about a cult a boy who grew up in the cult. He had a video recorded before his sucide, wanted to kill his mother and kill himself. he was partially successful. To know such a story was very chilling. if you want to know more u can find more at , the best part that he could grow up in a such a clear mind among the worst situation possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ricky_Rodriguez&lt;br /&gt;http://www.xfamily.org/index.php/Main_Page &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont want to write anything about this story here. But the reason i wrote this story is something else. I felt a little better that my life was not as bad, i was lucky to get a good education, great friends , few of the best teachers in world. But then i felt guilty that i was thinking like that.... may be i am ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-373994737897472095?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/373994737897472095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=373994737897472095&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/373994737897472095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/373994737897472095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/06/story-so-chilling.html' title='A story so chilling...'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-5280406467177272922</id><published>2008-06-08T00:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T00:39:33.964-04:00</updated><title type='text'>After 3 yrs...</title><content type='html'>Finally i got some time to catch up with the a book other than the subject book. I was on a coast to coast to flight from New york to California. With the reputation of our airlines i was sure about a delay and did not want to spend  my time with scientific journals anymore !!! the read the whole book in just few hours , hmm still fast after 3 yrs !!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought Kite Runner Since i had heard about it from people. It was pretty good book. The story was very much down to earth. There are so many terribly sad and wrong things in this world which is true and is happening. But when i am standing in the zebra crossing today morning i cannot help stop wondering,  watching all of us crossing the roads. I wonder how many of us know about these things, or may be its more of a choice, to accept it or deny it. Its very easy to turn a blind eye to these things and get consumed with our own lives. Because its the easiest thing to do. I still remember john miltons lines from paradise lost, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For good unknown, sure is not had, or had&lt;br /&gt;And yet unknown, is as not had at all"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;may be it applies for bad too. and that's what we do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-5280406467177272922?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/5280406467177272922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=5280406467177272922&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5280406467177272922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5280406467177272922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/06/after-3-yrs.html' title='After 3 yrs...'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-5828311476187536315</id><published>2008-05-24T01:08:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T01:08:24.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Arguments of a confused Man :  Part I</title><content type='html'>Sometimes me and my roommates discuss about how we are getting used to the American food slowly. D always says that when we make spicey hot indian food all we taste is the chiili and masala and not the vegetable itself. A and me wont agree with D even though he is right about it. ever ... ha ha  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then i was wondering WHAT IS INDIAN FOOD ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I realized many subtle things about heritage, culture and the perception of it. Most of us say we have to preserve our culture and teach it to the future generation. But thinking about it !! What is Indian culture ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it in the 300 - 400 AD when we were ruled by sooooooo many kings ? or when we were ruled by moguls or magadha or maurya or gupta or cholas .... the list goes on and on ......Is it the culture we had during our struggle for independence ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question is how can i preserve and pass on something which is ever changing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Child marriage and Sati which were considered the norms of the society seems so stupid now. So what do we mean by our culture and our heritage ?. Which should i count and, which i shouldn't ?. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever culture one belongs to i think Buddha's Kalama sutta puts things in perspective. (http://www.buddhadasa.com/naturaltruth/kalamasutta1.html)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it. Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many. Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books. Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-5828311476187536315?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/5828311476187536315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=5828311476187536315&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5828311476187536315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5828311476187536315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/05/arguments-of-confused-man-part-i.html' title='Arguments of a confused Man :  Part I'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-2646329227336582602</id><published>2008-05-24T00:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T00:48:24.325-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing up</title><content type='html'>I was watching this episode of Scrubs and i liked one sentence from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I thought growing up is a thing that happened automatically as you become older but then i realized that's something you have to choose ! "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well said i guess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-2646329227336582602?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/2646329227336582602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=2646329227336582602&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2646329227336582602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2646329227336582602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/05/growing-up.html' title='Growing up'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-8210692225722988940</id><published>2008-05-19T19:21:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T21:03:43.296-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear and Fearlessness</title><content type='html'>One of the sentences that was very interesting in the last post, was about fear being the biggest impediment of peace. It makes a lot of sense !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still remember my surprise when i came to know that actually  snake's hissing and attack on humans is because of fear and not an act of aggression. There a lot of things like that USA/USSR going through the whole cold war period fearing who will start the nuclear war first. Everything they have done was motivated by the fear of each other than aggression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From what i have come to understand about fear and fearlessness, fearlessness is not the reduction in fear but the capacity to think beyond the sense of fear. It is not the ability to learn not to fall down at all, but to get up every time u fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have read somewhere that the very essence of the cowardice is not acknowledging the reality of fear. When someone doesn't acknowledge fear,  it's due to ego or plain stupidity. Or may be a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;delusion&lt;/span&gt; that the most inspiring people has never shown fear. I think they have always acknowledged the reality of the fear. The difference in them was the ability to go beyond the fear. The ability to think beyond the moment of fear. The ability to be the same person even in the state of fear. Everybody is a good person until u put them in a spot give them a option to choose a wrong&amp;amp;easy way out or a right&amp;amp;difficult way out. That is when u really know a person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many would know the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;famous&lt;/span&gt; quotes from FDR "The only thing to fear is fear itself", but its incomplete FDR actually said....... "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-8210692225722988940?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/8210692225722988940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=8210692225722988940&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/8210692225722988940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/8210692225722988940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/05/fear-and-fearlessness.html' title='Fear and Fearlessness'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-2453380269182843513</id><published>2008-05-19T18:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T18:49:02.802-04:00</updated><title type='text'>a lot of things in a 5 minutes talk</title><content type='html'>I found this video online and the girl has got guts .....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1wVQlFz9W8k&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1wVQlFz9W8k&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;New School student, Jean Sara Rohe speaking at the university graduation ceremony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome, everyone, on this beautiful afternoon. I only have five minutes, so I'd appreciate it if you'd -- thanks. Welcome everyone, on this beautiful afternoon to the commencement ceremony for the New School class of 2006. That was an excerpt of the song I learned as a child called "Living Planet," by Jay Manquita. I chose to begin my address this way because, as always, but especially now, we are living in a time of violence, of war, of injustice. I am thinking of our brothers and sisters in Iraq, in Darfur, in Sri Lanka, in Mogadishu, in Israel, Palestine, right here in the United States, and many, many other places around the world. And my deepest wish on this day, on all days, is for peace, justice, and true freedom for all people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The song says, "We can change the universe by being who we are," and I believe that it really is just that simple. Right now, I'm going to be who I am and digress from my previously prepared remarks that I had been working on for the past several weeks. I am disappointed that I have to abandon the things I had wanted to speak about, but I feel that it is absolutely necessary to acknowledge the fact that this ceremony has become something other than the celebratory gathering that it was intended to be due to all the media attention surrounding John McCain's presence here today and the student and faculty outrage generated by his invitation to speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The senator does not reflect the ideals upon which this university was founded. Not only this -- please, not only this, but his invitation was a top-down decision that did not take into account the desires and interests of the student body on an occasion that is supposed to honor us above all and to commemorate our achievements. What is interesting and bizarre about this whole situation is that Senator McCain has stated that he will be giving the same speech at all three universities where he has been invited to speak recently, of which ours is the last, those being Jerry Falwell's Liberty University, Columbia University, and finally, here at the New School. For this reason, I have unusual foresight concerning the themes of his address today. Based on the speech he gave at the other institutions, Senator McCain will tell us today that dissent and disagreement are our civic and moral obligation in times of crisis, and I agree. I consider this a time of crisis, and I feel obligated to speak. Senator McCain will also tell us about his strong-headed self-assuredness in his youth which prevented him from hearing the ideas of others, and in so doing, he will imply that those of us who are young are too naive to have valid opinions and open ears. I am young, and although I don't profess to possess the wisdom that time affords us, I do know that preemptive war is dangerous and wrong, that George Bush's agenda in Iraq is not worth the many lives lost. And I know that despite all the havoc that my country has wrought overseas in my name, Osama bin Laden still has not been found, nor have those weapons of mass destruction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, Senator McCain will tell us that we, those of us who are Americans, have nothing to fear from each other. I agree strongly with this, but I take it one step further. We have nothing to fear from anyone on this living planet. Fear is the greatest impediment to the achievement of peace. We have nothing to fear from people who are different from us, from people who live in other countries, even from the people who run our government, and this we should have learned from our educations here. We can speak truth to power. We can allow our humanity always to come before our nationality. We can refuse to let fear invade our lives and to goad us on to destroy the lives of others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These words I speak do not reflect the arrogance of a young, strong-headed woman, but belong to a line of great progressive thought, a history in which the founders of this institution play an important part. I speak today, even through my nervousness, out of a need to honor those voices that came before me, and I hope that we graduates can all strive to do the same. Thank you very much. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-2453380269182843513?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/2453380269182843513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=2453380269182843513&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2453380269182843513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2453380269182843513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/05/lot-of-things-in-5-minutes-talk.html' title='a lot of things in a 5 minutes talk'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-8211453307445278007</id><published>2008-05-18T13:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T15:38:29.202-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Defenitions</title><content type='html'>sometimes i think about the distorted definitions around us and think that is the source of all problems in this world. and when i say defenitions i dont mean the oxford dictionary but about how things are percieved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For starters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Success&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;the notion of sucess is i guess so distorted that its not in anyway related to how you look in your own eyes. Ironically it has to do more with how others percieve you. So to earn other people's attention people begin to cross a line in the sand between the right and wrong and finally the line is no more there even if they want to find it, after a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I can blog about a lot of  other words........ beauty , rich , poor , friends ......... the list goes on...... may be  the most distorted one would be .......The right and the wrong..... the thing that benefits one is right  and the wrong is the thing which will not benifit one.........ha ha .... as simple as that ...... defenitions !!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-8211453307445278007?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/8211453307445278007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=8211453307445278007&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/8211453307445278007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/8211453307445278007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/05/defenitions.html' title='Defenitions'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-4455703387155314983</id><published>2008-05-16T13:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T18:30:40.132-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking</title><content type='html'>The worst thing about being in Newyork (and sometimes the best thing) is the snow. I love walking and had been missing it for a while now. Its a great relief that finally the sun has come back and u could enjoy ur walk in the streets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me feel i am a part of this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i remember in my school days when i dont walk with my friends back from school, i would choose a stone on the road near the school, and hit it slowly through all the streets to my home. Sometimes i would just watch the people on the road. trying to figure out what they would be thinking about that exact moment. why do they move their head like that ? why do they converse with other people walking with them the way they do ? u eventually learn to decode all this stuff (and spend rest of ur life wondering why the hell did i try to learn it !!!! )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there is the occasional treasure hunt of finding a wierd insect , or a eggsheel of an unknown animal or just a beatiful flower on the roadside which deserves a lot of attention. I always felt sorry for those roadside flowers, their beauty were not just to attract insects to spread pollen(GEEK ALERT !!) but then me also. i was their biggest fan and always felt it was just for me. I was a confused kid ....i did not know if letting the flowers on the bushes makes me happy or taking them with me to my home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but then to see the wide sky and feel what a small part are u in the whole universe in another thing. if somebody is having delutions of grandeur .......just look at the sky in a starry night !!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-4455703387155314983?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/4455703387155314983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=4455703387155314983&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/4455703387155314983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/4455703387155314983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/05/walking.html' title='Walking'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-33615148505454544</id><published>2008-05-15T17:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T18:01:19.111-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Am back</title><content type='html'>hmmm lets get this blog started again !!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-33615148505454544?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/33615148505454544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=33615148505454544&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/33615148505454544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/33615148505454544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2008/05/am-back.html' title='Am back'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-540002750960023165</id><published>2007-06-11T19:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T19:06:21.257-04:00</updated><title type='text'>no updates</title><content type='html'>i guess this blog will be closed for a long time ....dint want to delete it though&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-540002750960023165?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/540002750960023165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=540002750960023165&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/540002750960023165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/540002750960023165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2007/06/no-updates.html' title='no updates'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-453256261725206634</id><published>2007-05-31T18:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T18:35:33.382-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My mothers first lover</title><content type='html'>Today morning i got this dream of a feeling that i am in a grave and i am a kid and its someone related to me(i guess the kids mother)  i see lot of flowers and there i see three bright roses among  them which was kept on the grave by this man who is not related to the person in any way.... then he starts walking away with a black coat .........when i woke up i remembered it and decided to write a poem ....called My Mother's lover or something ..... i googled to make sure no one has written such a poem ..... but i found  a story in the name .... my mothers first lover ..... it was a great story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here are the links to the story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.usm.maine.edu/~amoroso/edu100/p1.htm&lt;br /&gt;http://www.usm.maine.edu/~amoroso/edu100/p2.htm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-453256261725206634?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/453256261725206634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=453256261725206634&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/453256261725206634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/453256261725206634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-mothers-first-lover.html' title='My mothers first lover'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-8222066763710388343</id><published>2007-05-31T17:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T18:06:56.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'>peace with yourself</title><content type='html'>Life in US has taught me a lot of things ....specially it answered a question which i had in my mind forever.i guess i finally found an answer for that in during my phd , may be its more because for the first time i am out of my very safe circle of trusted friends and family to a place where all u are valued is by ur utility to others .....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had always thought people discuss about who is being great Steve jobs or bill gates .... but nobody talks about Steve Wozniak .... after all he was invented something called PC, it was the greatest invention of the century ......he become rich but seemed never after money, he is not as famous as the other guys .....he then went on to join a univ and taught as a professor .......this guy was a genius ....... he has not only created the electronic parts of  the pc but programed it , he wrote the whole breakout in 4 days ........ but after all that his way of life is so different from the previous 2 ......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its just not this single guy but there are so many ppl i have met along my life who always made me wonder what drives them ...... after all money, name and love is what everybody is after......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the answer cannot be said or explained it has to be felt ......and the truth is there is no "answer" at all....  ... i don't know who's path i will take in the future and i don't know who is better or who is right ......... but i have been struggling ever since i have understood the reality .......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-8222066763710388343?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/8222066763710388343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=8222066763710388343&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/8222066763710388343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/8222066763710388343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2007/05/peace-with-yourself.html' title='peace with yourself'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-5572766947312270468</id><published>2007-05-23T10:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T13:25:29.341-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Invisibility</title><content type='html'>My new shoes at the party&lt;br /&gt;Those flowers along the highway&lt;br /&gt;The breeze that kisses my face&lt;br /&gt;The music playing in my head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A passion so intense to me&lt;br /&gt;And a passion so insinificant to others&lt;br /&gt;That dark evil inside all of us&lt;br /&gt;That noble angle in a few of us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your dreams for me&lt;br /&gt;My evaprated thoughts&lt;br /&gt;My Memories that reminds me of the past&lt;br /&gt;My hope that reminds me of the future&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words unsaid &lt;br /&gt;Words said and unheard&lt;br /&gt;Words said and heared but not understood&lt;br /&gt;Words misunderstood ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is invisible and&lt;br /&gt;I dont know if he exist&lt;br /&gt;Then at times&lt;br /&gt;I wonder , If i am invisible&lt;br /&gt;And if he knows i exist &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For i am visible&lt;br /&gt;Not when u see me&lt;br /&gt;For i am visible&lt;br /&gt;Not when u hear me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-5572766947312270468?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/5572766947312270468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=5572766947312270468&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5572766947312270468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/5572766947312270468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2007/05/invisibility.html' title='Invisibility'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-2648010813505663788</id><published>2007-05-23T10:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T22:59:20.531-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Contemplating the desert</title><content type='html'>This is a story which i liked a lot ::: ( its not mine )                    &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Three people who were passing in a small caravan saw a man contemplating the sunset in the Sahara desert from the top of a mountain.&lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;"It must be a shepherd who has  lost a sheep and is trying to find it," said the first. &lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;"No, I don't think he is looking for something, especially not at sunset - that confuses your vision. I think he is waiting for a friend." &lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;"I bet he's a holy man  looking for enlightenment,"  commented the third. &lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;They began to discuss what the man was doing, and got so involved in the discussion that they nearly ended up fighting with one another. Finally, to find out who was right, they decided to climb the mountain and ask the man.&lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;"Are you looking for your  sheep?" asked the first.&lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;"No, I don't have a flock."&lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;"Then you must be waiting for  someone," claimed the second. &lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;"I am a lonely man who lives in  the desert," was the answer. &lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;"Since you live in the desert, and in solitude, then we have to believe that you are a holy man in search of God, and you are meditating!" asserted the third man, content with this conclusion. &lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;"Does everything on Earth need to have an explanation? So let me explain: I am here just looking at the sunset: isn't that enough to lend a meaning to our lives?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-2648010813505663788?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/2648010813505663788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=2648010813505663788&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2648010813505663788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/2648010813505663788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2007/05/contemplating-desert.html' title='Contemplating the desert'/><author><name>J</name><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-3556734789235003379.post-8542796381637260456</id><published>2007-05-23T01:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T18:39:53.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nomads Dream</title><content type='html'>There is a prelude for this poem. It was written when i was 21 the time i guess when u r nearing the end of ur childhood and the start of ur adulthood or is it ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I in the End of a Beginning?&lt;br /&gt;Or the Beginning of an End?&lt;br /&gt;In this strange journey of life        &lt;p&gt;My only reason to live&lt;br /&gt;My only reason to go on&lt;br /&gt;Is not to be, what I already am! &lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p&gt;Wind&lt;br /&gt;Dreams and&lt;br /&gt;Desires&lt;br /&gt;The true nomads &lt;/p&gt;                &lt;p&gt;They laugh at me all the time&lt;br /&gt;In my nomadic dreams&lt;br /&gt;At the things I am missing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I ask them,&lt;br /&gt;How can u miss something when&lt;br /&gt;You don't know what you are missing?&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Can u miss someone you don't remember?&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p&gt;A nomad's journey never begins&lt;br /&gt;A nomad's journey never ends&lt;br /&gt;His home is nowhere&lt;br /&gt;I am in the middle of nowhere &lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p&gt;Death can stop the journey,&lt;br /&gt;But it may not end it, for&lt;br /&gt;The heart will die slower than the thought&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3556734789235003379-8542796381637260456?l=memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/feeds/8542796381637260456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3556734789235003379&amp;postID=8542796381637260456&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/8542796381637260456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3556734789235003379/posts/default/8542796381637260456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoirsofanomad.blogspot.com/2007/05/nomads-dream.html' title='Nomads Dream'/><author><name>J</name><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>
