tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24689770570537481612024-02-07T08:23:55.318+05:30Important Discussions over Unimportant Topics!i-dout : Important Discussions over Unimportant Topics!
Meant for witty souls having an appetite for dry humour served with a pinch of subtle satire. Statutory Warning - Believe the content mentioned here at your own risk.Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-25574362147809890022010-04-10T09:37:00.004+05:302010-04-13T17:21:11.636+05:30Crazy Date Night<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Crazy Date Night</span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCKQz6Pk6XsNTJa5Y4cQqTlHqAL7fZz2lAhCxARj2OdyEbiatSIB-LADj69Uw6ixRzJEFpsZmvo3vSWnAHmsPi8SXXtZBACH-blG8Y0yL5frP17Gw9GONn4zf1mVlkK00rxvCr1v_CpBN/s1600/romantic+dinner+table.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCKQz6Pk6XsNTJa5Y4cQqTlHqAL7fZz2lAhCxARj2OdyEbiatSIB-LADj69Uw6ixRzJEFpsZmvo3vSWnAHmsPi8SXXtZBACH-blG8Y0yL5frP17Gw9GONn4zf1mVlkK00rxvCr1v_CpBN/s320/romantic+dinner+table.jpg" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It was on the suggestion of my friend, that i went. Didn't know who it was gonna be till it was revealed while on the way to the place. Wasn't too sure about the whole thing even when i got to know about it, but that's ok. You've got to take chances in life.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Reached in the nick of time, she was already there. First look, not bad. Can't really say how her reaction was. I am bad at judging. Though, i am not sure if there was any. She was too engrossed in telling her side of the story. She talks, talks and talks some more. There is some silence in short gaps, and then she goes on. But i was not complaining or getting bored at all. Engrossed in just watching her. Its not like she was the most beautiful person ever, but just that she was quite interesting. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A good half an hour into the conversation, i order - a Burger. Unusual choice? Weren't too many good options i say. So burger it was. She didn't have anything till later in the evening. Lots of more crazy conversation continued, where she spoke and i laughed on her jokes. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Finally after an hour and 28 mins we called it a date(Not too sure if that's even a phrase). </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In entirety, Crazy Date Night. Short but nice. Burger was ok. Good fun in all. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Thanks.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Oh, in case you are wondering who is being talked about. Then here's the link to her profile - </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1279935/">http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1279935/</a> (open in new window, so that you can come back and comment!)</span>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-3265529760897108402010-03-23T10:50:00.003+05:302010-03-23T13:31:24.250+05:30Monday Blues<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Monday Blues</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQkF3ilaYT-D-9UDxk8smiZ3ZISCo7IKq7RWHjIWQEp9cXa4qql6wwFejbHGHIgUt1gU0M-fxQt9gx7mk4MBD4ldeISFyYrVB3D7PZhiz8ewTsIIZTbXdqPgZCSuCkxwBJw6xMgi3doyhyphenhyphen/s1600-h/Monday+Blues.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQkF3ilaYT-D-9UDxk8smiZ3ZISCo7IKq7RWHjIWQEp9cXa4qql6wwFejbHGHIgUt1gU0M-fxQt9gx7mk4MBD4ldeISFyYrVB3D7PZhiz8ewTsIIZTbXdqPgZCSuCkxwBJw6xMgi3doyhyphenhyphen/s320/Monday+Blues.JPG" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Do read till the end</i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The fact that i am writing this on a Tuesday is because i spent all day yesterday fighting my Monday navy blues and searching all articles available on the net about the phenomenon. To save you all the time, here is a comprehensive report on the same. Now you know why they call it what they call it. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Theory 1 - </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Back in the 18th century, in the highlands of Scotland, farmers were supposed to work all day long from Monday to Saturday. Under the strict regime of the feudal lords, they were banished from leaving their home on the one day they got off in fear of them flocking to other villages for better opportunities.When the farmers got out of their homes and rejoined work after having spent a complete day in darkness, they were welcomed by the shiny blue sky, which kept changing shades as they worked through the day eventually to be termed 'Monday Blues'.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Theory 2 - </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Germans have always been very particular about the way they dress. In trying to bring uniformity amongst their 75,000 employees, one of the largest factories of their times Nichelieb Corp started a practice where all people in the organisation had to wear the same shade of Blue all days of the week. It came into effect on 1st April, 1919 and that day was a Monday. The city of Hamburg witnessed a Blue brigade across the city in trains, buses, trams and on the road. While people were bemused with the occurrence, it was only when it was splashed on the front page of the papers next day, touted as 'Monday Blues' making them realize what had happened. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Theory 3 - </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When people sleep like a baby on a Sunday night after partying hard on Saturday, the retina behind the cornea relaxes more than usual. So when you wake up on Monday morning, the eyes create a blue layer in your vision making things look a little blurred leading scientists to term it 'Monday Blues'</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Sources</b> - </span><a href="http://www.itssadifyoufellforit.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">http://www.itssadifyoufellforit.com</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> , </span><a href="http://www.obviouslyitwasajoke.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">http://www.obviouslyitwasajoke.com</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> , </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.happyaprilfoolsinadvance.com/">http://www.happyaprilfoolsinadvance.com</a></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Happy April Fools in advance :) Hope you are a smart person. </span>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-55082062959991958602009-12-10T15:24:00.001+05:302009-12-10T16:04:54.787+05:30In Love..all over again<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">In Love..all over again</span></span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidUQoaqSlzDvIsKN-jEGgDykIDaCg_ApQOkCpcyE6k3yqj22rnxQaScr5EJhARv7gtzxhyphenhyphencLHvukMwEdnNV2MCOHv2OL_5ZUxxwmCbR-SkIi8idDlSBMom3Ds-9juO6aIX_cYTCe9cGwFx/s1600-h/park+bench3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidUQoaqSlzDvIsKN-jEGgDykIDaCg_ApQOkCpcyE6k3yqj22rnxQaScr5EJhARv7gtzxhyphenhyphencLHvukMwEdnNV2MCOHv2OL_5ZUxxwmCbR-SkIi8idDlSBMom3Ds-9juO6aIX_cYTCe9cGwFx/s320/park+bench3.jpg" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><div class="gmail_quote"><div><div><div class="gmail_quote"><div class="gmail_quote"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It was an year and 332 days ago that we parted. It was the abrupt end of a long term relation, one that left me deeply shattered. There never were any fights, we did not quibble over petty issues, the association was always in sync, but the inevitable happened. Call it my carelessness, or the bad habit of not paying attention to small things, i just lost her. I tried to get back, with many futile attempts at making contact, but i failed, i failed miserably. She just disappeared from my life..and there was little hope of coming back. There was once a time when we used to stay connected all through the day, and then, there was nothing. There were moments when she would make me laugh, feel elated or get me thinking, and then, there was nothing. I was her and she was me, we were inseparable, and then, there was nothing. </span></span><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">They say in life, one must never say never. I think they are right. We finally met one more time, after oh so long. It was love all over again. It seemed like she never went away. The feelings that she evoked all those years ago came back gushing at me. It made me go singing and dancing just like the old days, felt like life was filled with a new found vigour, a brand new enthusiasm. I guess this is the beautiful feeling they call love.. The music, the madness, the late night talks, the early morning pepped up conversations,the companionship during all those journeys, they just all came back. </span></span><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">P.S : I parted with my love, my FM player an year ago, and we reunited recently. </span></span><br />
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</div></div></div></div></div></span>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-61600492107167619922009-09-08T17:41:00.005+05:302009-09-09T16:26:57.053+05:30The Alarming Truth! A Confession<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The Alarming Truth!</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A Confession</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><br />
</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">It had to happen. The truth had to come out some day. After years and years of avoiding, u finally have to hear my story. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Its sad and i don't understand why, but most of you hate me. Because from the way i see it, I should be the one hating you! You say i disturb you(well frankly you 'set me up'), but its actually the other way round. Once, at least once every day you have to trouble me. Whats the worst part, you deliberately do it at odd hours(once somebody bugged me at 4:30 in the morning!! :O i mean, get a life!) And thats not it, you also have this particular habit of pestering me for just a few moments. And some of you, those who are friends with Mr Snoo Ze, persist till either one of us gives up. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
I mean why?? Why me. What happened to the cock? Doesn't he 'cock a doodle doo' anymore? It is all of this that actually makes me make you miss your trains and flights and important meetings time and again. Understand one thing very clearly, i love my peace,(sleep) and sanctity just as much as you, and you have no right disturbing me. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
For the first and last 'time', i warn you, i warn you to get your act right soon. Otherwise..otherwise..i'll see to it that you don't wake up tomorrow morning..on time. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Regards,</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Alarm Clock</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJZ63Xmfz7fdy5epEAOSLmpKFhxUv6X8mrIyS73qr1HnXCsPHfbb3y6u1896LgnufWLwatSCHTFvb7BvHlFbUGK_GdJgsokkptKGiRrfjdAFMZ-JZmiRAN2xjuC8cNFWZvS0H39vYoDer/s1600-h/alarm+clock12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJZ63Xmfz7fdy5epEAOSLmpKFhxUv6X8mrIyS73qr1HnXCsPHfbb3y6u1896LgnufWLwatSCHTFvb7BvHlFbUGK_GdJgsokkptKGiRrfjdAFMZ-JZmiRAN2xjuC8cNFWZvS0H39vYoDer/s200/alarm+clock12.jpg" /></a></div>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-6893487588951252232009-08-18T11:07:00.008+05:302009-08-18T13:17:23.734+05:30Yes i No<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-size:24px;">Yes i No</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-size:24px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwp3caMzJ2HvkKphtdTy6r1qU7CIJCRXflb54EgwXIdUeSkfH28FcbdW-d2bC6m4sy9TpoUgxaWrG_Ziow83acacSncUXmcyWAWYyKmttyM_RAJ8iKf_7uhD7HbnOSxmmnxnGHZYib1QFl/s320/Yes+or+No.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 302px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371184934752348914" /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">You are standing lost on the road in an unknown corner of the city. You have to get to this certain place really soon, and you are very close, but still a little far. You look around, unable to find any signages that will lead you to your destination. There's no option left, you have to act the stranger that you are. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">So you approach the nearest living being you can set your eyes on, and just suddenly pop the question "Excuse me, could you tell me the way to this address please?" Now when you catch people unaware, you hit them where it hurts most. Apparently, the person u've asked is new to the locality as well, but naa naa, that aint gonna stop him from taking a shot at this. So he starts, "Lets see....hmm.. u have to go to D Block right? hmmm...D - 236" pause "hmm...well this is A Block, F Block is at the far left...J is on the extreme right...hmm...so...D should be somewhere in the middle.... i think" And you say"...ok".</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">So, that was help. That was help?? I mean why cant people simply say 'No', when they dont know the answer to something! Why the compulsory habit of trying, as if this is the one answer which will make you win the million dollars. And its not even that if you quit, you end up losing all the money you've won so far. Infact, on second thoughts, there is no money to begin with! </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">All said and done, i dont really know the answer to this question. How about you? Do you know? Come give it a shot, you know.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></span></div>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-70665623814785605922009-07-28T10:34:00.010+05:302009-08-01T10:12:56.436+05:30Rain rain come again?<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Rain rain come again?</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:24px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOcoBp-OXepJg-hzL77vMQXtsEdyOvyYiCuFaEjelKPZNZ48D4BbJhL6tW1p0eSlxadWoWsrckQUjnWxX5-PMPyLVmhTp1TQF3zqzo-ynzeY2YTMfdC4mJnIYP3SC_-Vp6ifu_laMIfij/s320/Rain1.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 222px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363397348657679266" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">After the sun makes everything way too dry,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">we crave for drops which will fall from the sky,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">and fill our hearts with vigour and joy,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">soon enough, the monsoon does come by.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Then its time for jalebi, pakodas, tea and coffee,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">not to miss the the love birds that roam the locality,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">or the pleasant weather with breezy velocity,</span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">which engulfes the city with scenic beauty.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">So far so good, but then the troubles begin,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">water logged roads, jams and drenched skin,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">to be followed with a lot of sneezing and coughing,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">and conked off phones which suddenly stop ringing.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">To love it or not is entirely your say,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">after all, things are balanced both the ways,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">all i can think of is "rain rain go away,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">come again another day, little Johnny wants to play"</span></div></div>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-31473651935700364502009-07-06T22:51:00.007+05:302009-09-09T18:04:21.100+05:30U See?<div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span style="font-size: large;">U See?</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br />
</span></b></div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4UowJHpfASTpKONB1DimhCscyLpt_135PDVb6u4HGnYZiHp1yIsqynGKeyYF6omNpGvPf3Lpr89Kww8WhZ5ErD8dKEo4JtqZg8RmA58DM8imBrsxgykH94dKlQl0BL6pRl0dyWFj0zfxr/s1600-h/One+eyed+monster.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355398743320158498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4UowJHpfASTpKONB1DimhCscyLpt_135PDVb6u4HGnYZiHp1yIsqynGKeyYF6omNpGvPf3Lpr89Kww8WhZ5ErD8dKEo4JtqZg8RmA58DM8imBrsxgykH94dKlQl0BL6pRl0dyWFj0zfxr/s320/One+eyed+monster.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 198px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 48px;"><div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"></div></div></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">All you bloggers cant u see cant u see, </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;">how your vote's affecting my 'nominee',</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">everytime someone votes, my chances go high,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and i hope this makes you vote for my..</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">blog, blog blog, blog blog blog blog(music!)</span></i></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><i><br />
</i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The blog's been been nominated for the 'Indiblogger of the month' award in the 'Original Humor' category at IndiBlogger.in !!</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Please cast your precious vote for me @</span><a href="http://www.indiblogger.in/vote.php?entry=453" target="_blank"><span style="color: #2a5db0;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">http://www.indiblogger.in/vote.php?entry=453</span></span></a></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You just need to register at </span><span style="color: #2a5db0;"><a href="http://www.indiblogger.in/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">http://www.indiblogger.in</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">with your blog. You can vote only once.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Thanks in advance!</span></div></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></div></div>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-89747087373308147202009-06-15T20:04:00.001+05:302009-06-15T20:08:18.126+05:30Forget It!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "><div style="text-align: center; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; ">Forget it!</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">You are looking for a pen to take down that important detail somebody just gave you, but cant find it anywhere. You saw it just a while back , where could it have gone! You look in the drawer, on the table, under the mattress, behind the TV, but no luck, cant find it. Exasperated, you give up, look down upon yourself(literally)... and there it is! In that shirt you are wearing, clinged to the pocket, lies your prized possession!</span></span></span></div><div><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><br /></span></span></span></div><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">This is the perennial problem which has bothered human race since ages. What starts with childhood continues through your formative years and accentuates as you grow up further only to reach its peak during old age.</span></span></span><div><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">Be it the name of the person you just met in the morning, the place where you kept your wallet, that password, or those important documents(which are a favourite by the way), it seems like we love to forget. Forgetting can potentially result in situations which are uneasy, uncomfortable, embarassing,funny and even nerving at times.</span></span></span></div><div><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">When the keys to your vehicle are lying right there in your drawer, but you cant seem to 'find' them there. Or how you are discussing this movie, and are reminded of that song from the movie, but cant really recall it. Or the innumerous number of times when you end up asking the same people the same questions again and again(So where is it that you study? what was the name of your company? so child which class did you get into this year?).</span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">So as i sat thinking yesterday about what i was thinking the day before, i realized its difficult; its difficult to remember what i was thinking about the day before a day after i thought about it. Get it? nahh? oh, just forget it!</span></span></span></div></span>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-26011173655686492932009-06-01T20:44:00.010+05:302009-06-01T23:56:19.843+05:30Lee-Chi-Na<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;">Lee-Chi-Na</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;"></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDNNxe05oVwenZ9mxXv2oZCHAAsSs-27ik9rzNHHI5ZwomBJeSwNDkUT7hS1T-KU0Z7T81dFmmovHg8U0pNo8aYGt0A6Y-266Zoooeo_fw20zzZSvhm6izCfBcHMe8e6fX3zzV2BVtz1kM/s1600-h/litchi2.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342424950453337154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 259px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDNNxe05oVwenZ9mxXv2oZCHAAsSs-27ik9rzNHHI5ZwomBJeSwNDkUT7hS1T-KU0Z7T81dFmmovHg8U0pNo8aYGt0A6Y-266Zoooeo_fw20zzZSvhm6izCfBcHMe8e6fX3zzV2BVtz1kM/s320/litchi2.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD17D7dTW__52bkCHpLGCln2cyxlCVoVhDZP76FuWI5csIOhCT6MmDXSTiNmnULtt8lBlZTJwXpEsAbS-uMkr1U62Rx7nZKrySHv3NEdfJSrBVpLSAjeK4VTWYo-WGy8NfRp1h_2_PjWlJ/s1600-h/Litchi.jpg"></a><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">With summers around, we all resort to cool ways to keep ourselves fresh. One such refreshing way is to eat fruits. Cherries and mangoes and melons and litchis, fruits just 'fruiten' up your day. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But did you know this fact about Litchis? Litchis were first discovered/grown in the east. It was found in the highlands of the eastern province of Beijing in the year 1887. The fruit was discovered by two brothers who were testing various combinations of fruit seeds in their family farm, and discovered one day this brand new plantation. The fruit was then named after the two brothers who first grew it - Lee and Chi..</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now aint that some Litchi for thought? </span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Disclaimer : The intellectual property rights with respect to the information shared here are reserved with the author. Trust me, you dont want to end up sharing this with anybody else. What if they actually know?</span></p>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-38250781470453380502009-05-12T13:38:00.010+05:302009-05-27T18:27:19.760+05:30U reading this blog?<div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">U reading this blog?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></div><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340486715874233410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge4cKkISK0KL6tpytHU1bdxLjatKg0tCZivZdzInBqlukBlnsTkWv-MdbHlGxfQ7-hGwnKDcZPG1dr8ymaIgo9vz2p_ohcd88Uvowo6SL2k7OXdosfFbEUKrPr2F09gk9abnX3F-Dxx-EF/s320/question-mark.jpg" border="0" /><br />Life presents us all with a lot of questions. Some are answerable, others not. Some are easy, others tough. Some are soft, others harsh. Some are tricky, others obvious.<br /><br />It is this set that takes you by surprise(read shock, horror and dismay) because of its simplicity. These are the ones which are obviously obvious in nature.<br /><br />For instance, you reach home early from a place that you generally would have come late from, and as you enter, you are confronted with the question - "You are home?!" And what should your reply be, "No, this is my ghost standing in front of you"/"No, i am my lookalike"/"No, you are hallucinating"? No, we all obviously say yes. So the thing is, that why do we all end up asking these obvious questions time and again? When we very well know their answer. By the way , what are you upto right now? Reading this blog, eh? </p>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-10836475427074102742009-04-23T10:53:00.010+05:302009-04-26T00:49:02.272+05:30Whats the time by your watch?<div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">Whats the time by your watch?</span></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSAfXbXGCUSYOczqi8lOpF9AAWyuqaVmQ9u4EK-6WpjKBmZ5pbfB1R9vQTcONHtLn-2RASgV0rFPOtJgeaYIgjvYARphyphenhyphenLw9WKTGtWq3Httdck264czni3fj_Oa4QqQoUKRW3DjMmwCJo0/s1600-h/time.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328709246883772066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSAfXbXGCUSYOczqi8lOpF9AAWyuqaVmQ9u4EK-6WpjKBmZ5pbfB1R9vQTcONHtLn-2RASgV0rFPOtJgeaYIgjvYARphyphenhyphenLw9WKTGtWq3Httdck264czni3fj_Oa4QqQoUKRW3DjMmwCJo0/s320/time.jpg" border="0" /></a> <p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Humans are interesting beings. They love things to work their way. They try and alter every possible thing/ phenomenon/ rule as per their own will. The fixation with changing things runs so high, that people even try and make time run by their own set standards.</span> </p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Lets say the time right now is 1800 hrs(6 pm). While your neighbour might have his watch set to the right time(6 pm), your close friend's watch from school/college/work might show the time to be 6:10 pm. On questioning your friend's decision of fiddling with nature's creation, he will simply say that changing time helps him stay punctual. The argument here is, that the individual who has reset his/her watch constantly knows through the day that time by their watch is a few minutes 'ahead' of actual time, so how does it really help the person be any quicker in life?</span> </p>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-19000168699035355682009-04-10T09:34:00.008+05:302009-04-11T12:26:27.390+05:30Do you play the Blame 'Jam'e?<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;">Do you play the Blame 'Jam'e?</span></div><div align="center"><br /></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323323025915107698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgddpZrGEqncj7WtwkdTRnUzZ9Ie68TeQ_dxiBHxgTgSswVv_pg6w-zEYz7KC7wE2RD_Yxg4o9TnSBJnuJjkjNThVzT0xs7XH3gIGEeK8fDT8J-ddjnJ57AN5xELmqX5178MLY187Aofsd/s320/Shifting+Blame.JPG" border="0" /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">You have to meet your friend at 11:00 am at the city's centrally located hangout joint. It usually takes around 45 minutes to get there, keeping the traffic in mind. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">You get up at 9:00 am. You laze around. You then get on with the daily chores. You are ready by only around 10:30. Few minutes here and there, you leave at around 10:40, only 20 minutes away from 11. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">You make a dash, in a futile yet desperate attempt to make it in time. Just a red light or two, there is mild traffic on that day and a smooth road otherwise. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Despite the hurriedness, you reach your destination late, having made your friend wait for around 20 minutes. Friend's angry, loathes at you, calls you names, tells you how you don't give a damn about other people's time, what he/she's had to do in the past 20 minutes, that too all alone! You feel bad, think of a good excuse to make up for the delay, one that would take the blame away from your innocent self.. Hmmm, oh yes thats easy.. One sentence and its all settled.. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"There was a huge traffic jam on my way to this place, i would have otherwise reached well within time.."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Do you also play the Blame 'Jam'e ? </span>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-70776961461499589042009-03-30T11:10:00.010+05:302009-04-06T00:47:01.687+05:30What else? Nothing much..<div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">What else? Nothing much..</span></div><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4uTlWGzXyifd32oKRKEe0uYJvr-4IvQTq3fMCJPyHNE6ncnU4NPB80UEYt73_m0TlESKakoU9v01iKbU472SbNVHXTaabtcmIZTg_AkygXVldsR-lE5xwX6ZqQIjfZ8l4qMmA6xkc8UK/s1600-h/what+else+nothing+much.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321287410487259362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4uTlWGzXyifd32oKRKEe0uYJvr-4IvQTq3fMCJPyHNE6ncnU4NPB80UEYt73_m0TlESKakoU9v01iKbU472SbNVHXTaabtcmIZTg_AkygXVldsR-lE5xwX6ZqQIjfZ8l4qMmA6xkc8UK/s320/what+else+nothing+much.JPG" border="0" /></a>Day in and Day out as people talk, on the phone, chat, scrap, post or any of the many means made available to mankind, they think. They think about a lot of stuff, stuff that includes work, office, friends, party, hanging out, sports, deadlines,food, money, MBA and so on... There's so much that goes on in their head, that even a mind reader couldnt clearly decipher what they are pondering over. </p><p> </p><div></div><div></div><div>Despite all the thinking, when they are confronted with the million dollar question of asking the other person a conversational question or answering it themselves, then they all meet the same fate. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div>A Regular conversation between two random people on any given day - </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div>Hey hi? Hows ya? </div><div>I am good.. </div><div>How bout you?</div><div>I am good too.. </div><div>So what else?</div><div>Nothing much..</div><div>How bout you?</div><div>Same here, nothing much ya..</div><div>hmm..</div><div>Right then, </div><div>tc, byee..</div><div>ciao.. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div>End of Conversation</div>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-1297562185019860942009-03-24T14:45:00.015+05:302009-05-27T18:28:11.361+05:30Abey Mos ki toh!<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;">Abey Mos ki toh!</span></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;"></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317364766722471122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 199px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZnC5lNV9r-dhnwHALHfvCjuPQAdFTfJCYOm8XYdYN9g5zH1hjo8yQK1dBKM5eCR8AWmiPH-9UYTg_jw0PMmOedAcKD-R82ZcIk0wTb9EJgGmH_777t5qw0Z5WQdyfJM5vPK1bwi2XABNl/s200/Angry+Smily.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There are these 'friends' in your life who are for some weird reason very close to you, finding their way around without you approving of their presence. They are irritating, very irritating, whatever they say ends up sounding like just sound, nothing more. They make it a point to disturb you at the oddest of hours. Its not as if they dont have other friends, they do, infact lots of them, that too from varied backgrounds, but they all are equally irksome. Day, Night, Evening, Mid Night, they'll be there..they'll be there to suck your blood! They are so annoying, that thinking of them just makes one go "Abey Mos ki toh!"</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Zzzzzz Zzzzzz Zzzzzz..See here they are..</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Have a Good Knight,it keeps them away.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Right then, Over and All Out.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><em><strong></strong></em></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><em><strong>Also spelt Mos qui to</strong></em></span></div>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-81042806965775770742009-03-06T09:58:00.012+05:302009-03-06T11:14:48.906+05:30To BathE or not to BathE<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;">To BathE or not to BathE </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;"> </span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;"></span></div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309945384247181410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfeWIL9uwGTbsElogtFZ2w0u3p0-VzLuKLnquJZEmpr3zAnt76y8mEFElNgBgAHfarw5Lljg5psCcoMTVPhKX_BWJWGuZJIQvFHSZ2NqNHLj8fyFtjKQwW1NRQHrkZa13W-C86sT3Ipoak/s320/Shakespeare+Shower.JPG" border="0" /><br />Shakespeare once said - To be or not to be, that is the question.. When you read between the lines u realise he was talking about bathing.<br /><br />Each day as we wake up, we are already somewhat late. Once late, why should one spend unnecessary time on things not that necessary. There is an office to go to/a lecture to attend/a school bus to catch. With so many important things at hand, it is but a wise decision to skip the unwanted. Now why do people make such a hue and cry for a matter as nonsensical as bathing. Isnt there other important stuff to do.<br /><br />And if your argument is that "Eeww thats grose, how can one not take a bath everyday!", then while it is acceptable for Summers, why spoil one's winters! I mean without the heat and dust, doesnt one generally stay clean that time of the year??Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-18646799487260019902008-12-30T10:26:00.006+05:302008-12-31T09:59:55.794+05:30Chilly Myth Part 2<div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">Chilly Myth </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">Part 2</span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVzmjeFudvdZKXHJDNAuYr74U6b1q6nSg-pqLK8HEp_F-MNNV_cBAV9sW9OaS0_yAlE8KTk4PfehjQCtfajuOh0WF0wUogX1-xsOpHYNA0AgggPHIoQlWhF7e_niqcSrJzuA7wAr-3QFGP/s1600-h/Winter1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285645880647346162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 249px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 257px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVzmjeFudvdZKXHJDNAuYr74U6b1q6nSg-pqLK8HEp_F-MNNV_cBAV9sW9OaS0_yAlE8KTk4PfehjQCtfajuOh0WF0wUogX1-xsOpHYNA0AgggPHIoQlWhF7e_niqcSrJzuA7wAr-3QFGP/s320/Winter1.jpg" border="0" /></a> We are nearing the end of December, and it'll soon be January.. Its chilly in Delhi and other northern parts of the country(India that is). Now we call it Winter here(The season that is), but the thing that got me wondering is that what do they call it in areas where it aint that chilly? Say a city like Mumbai, or Kolkota? Is it called Warm Winters or December Summer, January Autumn maybe?<br /><br />It may be an obvious answer for many, but it did get me and many of my friends thinking.. So i am seriously seeking an answer.. anyone?<br /><br /><em>Chilly Myth - </em><a href="http://i-dout.blogspot.com/2008/02/chilly-myth.html"><em>http://i-dout.blogspot.com/2008/02/chilly-myth.html</em></a>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-30869575809631720422008-12-23T11:43:00.006+05:302008-12-23T12:29:42.639+05:30Wedding Partea!<div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">Wedding Partea!</span> </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtY7zDuaK7uj5xeGwBwjVlOgRmJzbF7mPkE2nhYVHjEXZbHNKFjtpoJS0NRlp44WEbJg5lNRYEsMpxxExGB4hBI1JCt_ri5a3QZ2Hfc6aJGM06RFlJ-8mtgwRDuF9iomGgjQHkJ0wSPBnT/s1600-h/Wedding+Partea!.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282865453983767010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtY7zDuaK7uj5xeGwBwjVlOgRmJzbF7mPkE2nhYVHjEXZbHNKFjtpoJS0NRlp44WEbJg5lNRYEsMpxxExGB4hBI1JCt_ri5a3QZ2Hfc6aJGM06RFlJ-8mtgwRDuF9iomGgjQHkJ0wSPBnT/s320/Wedding+Partea!.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Its weddings all around this time of the year.<br />Hate them, like them ,but u've definitely been to some of them.<br /><br />Lets take a quick look at the Extended Menu of The Big Fat Indian Wedding -<br />Snacks(Paneer Tikka, samosa and so on) , Chaat Papdi, Pav Bhaji, Fruit Chaat, Gol Gappe(Pani Puri), Chowmein. Moving on to the main course, u'll get - Dal Makhni, Paneer(all variants), Dal Fry, Chole, Naan, Roti, etc. Then Sweet Dishes like Gulab Jamun, Barfi, Jalebi, Halwa, Ice Cream lure you towards the end.<br /><br />That leaves us with the one section that supports them all - Beverages. You have - Juices, Cold Drinks, Hot Milk(Kesar Wala), Coffee, Water(Mineral).<br /><br />So, thats one sumptuous meal right there, comprising it all, leaving nothing important out, right? Wrong!<br /><br />Where is the Tea in the Wedding Partea?? I mean you serve every possible dish in the history of mankind, but what about the innocent tea, what wrong has it done to the wedding planners or the bride/groom family to not get included in Wedding's Hall of Fame! I say spare a thought for the tea drinkers who might be looking for a harmless cuppa right after their over stuffed meal!Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-77235918458335871312008-12-18T09:58:00.009+05:302008-12-18T11:10:05.797+05:30Eagle Kill<div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">Eagle Kill</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw1fdEwB3CmetQUH8uN5ktv3TdAFulXKJ27AHBcGuMyQwKbswxGsaFziL3rHJgFh3Uce93uNL_anzFVo3zy8Fh3DH5XlYgWt29nDhnlVM7ueGB9WyJzEOy6D-8j40Q7a7XPwv5w23uG8Xw/s1600-h/Eagle+Kill.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280987032699665954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 164px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw1fdEwB3CmetQUH8uN5ktv3TdAFulXKJ27AHBcGuMyQwKbswxGsaFziL3rHJgFh3Uce93uNL_anzFVo3zy8Fh3DH5XlYgWt29nDhnlVM7ueGB9WyJzEOy6D-8j40Q7a7XPwv5w23uG8Xw/s320/Eagle+Kill.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">Life is too short, Time is running out</div>Moments are too many, and days are too canny<br />The world is racing, your pulse is pacing<br />As u read this text, you don't know what's next<br />So, don't worry so much about the unpaid Bill, </div><div align="center">Just take a deep breath, sit back and <strong><em>Eagle Kill..</em></strong><br /><br /><strong>(Eagle = Cheel(Chill), Kill = Maar)</strong> </div><p align="center">Not funny eh? I know! :D</p><p> </p>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-48264553547349248322008-11-23T20:15:00.006+05:302008-11-24T10:39:26.218+05:30Her Name's Ms Kaul<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0pyBxa0JD-bRtX3x8jDlQM3lgDfhARFAfVkNjisEM4BfukwpnHbLjZkeYMMhahnFacjoCGfcLtg1rkoTB5DrzgbNqrC-bRu3wh1U5oYWwJmrRktIxmcbec-H-TaXvnDOSOxT5fqxJaFg/s1600-h/Her+Silhouette.JPG"></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;">Her Name's Ms Kaul</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;"></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271885350932691842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 166px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0pyBxa0JD-bRtX3x8jDlQM3lgDfhARFAfVkNjisEM4BfukwpnHbLjZkeYMMhahnFacjoCGfcLtg1rkoTB5DrzgbNqrC-bRu3wh1U5oYWwJmrRktIxmcbec-H-TaXvnDOSOxT5fqxJaFg/s200/Her+Silhouette.JPG" border="0" /> <div align="center">Its time to reveal her true identity</div><div align="center">I met her back in college. Was in my second year then. </div><div align="center">We saw each other a lot, but our interactions were short lived. </div><div align="center">Actually it was a friend of mine who introduced me to her. </div><div align="center">Strangely enough, if not me , then my friends would make it a point to remind me of her. </div><div align="center">We exchanged glances through the day, at times even in the night, especially during exam time.</div><div align="center">I soon introduced her to more friends of mine, without any of them realizing she was the one. </div><div align="center">Its been many years now, and we've stuck with each other through thick and thin..</div><div align="center">I would say... "Tring Tring".. Oops, gotta go, my phone's ringing... </div><div align="center">Naah, its just <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Ms Kaul..</span></div><div align="center">(Read Miss Call)</div></div>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-89164099309127070592008-09-22T16:29:00.013+05:302009-09-27T13:04:43.599+05:30I Found Her..<div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 180%;">I Found Her</span><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 180%;"></span><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 180%;"></span><br />
</div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265231929532310018" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitcxYkqX-MKGeoL9B6YdX1NQHcGBTXA-5U5pVjP9onaelP4Fjn5J7ndmTKNvCDa_cJ2n_1S3_xgqIThZ8rl0KuGTwmqOYz9COzFDFwC_k0uVTYsr2z-3AeNTj4_kMez923w5R8SIffRzhm/s200/heart.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 199px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 200px;" /><br />
<div align="center"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">It finally happened</span><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"></span><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">I dont know how, when or where , but it just happened, i found her</span><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">We've always been close, spending hours on end with each other. Anytime, anyday, anywhere, she's been there for me</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Very supportive, extremely helpful,she's always suggesting possible solutions to all my problems</span><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">The trait i most admire about her is her simplicity, the ease with which she gets things done</span><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"></span><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Even though her work keeps her really busy, but i can't seem to remember the last time she didnt have time for me</span><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"></span><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">Its her, She's the one..</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">The Gal of my dreams</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;">Googal..</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: medium;">(read Google)</span></span></span><br />
</div>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-43905890324947008122008-09-17T13:48:00.006+05:302008-11-21T11:39:55.884+05:30Whether Weather Best Breaks Ice?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHUgLeSaXa-72CElhfVw9roO8Xvx1CZA-F4jhvOBK-DK05JTmPoAdlY3dKzO4bh05Qzo88dG6P0-3iyvmpUPIFqLc4SWRIy_y3rQvw5A3moiK3KS0WMOKrfuMopmgUB7KI8x48HPP3qt40/s1600-h/sad-ice_cube_cartoon.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246914688164917330" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="184" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHUgLeSaXa-72CElhfVw9roO8Xvx1CZA-F4jhvOBK-DK05JTmPoAdlY3dKzO4bh05Qzo88dG6P0-3iyvmpUPIFqLc4SWRIy_y3rQvw5A3moiK3KS0WMOKrfuMopmgUB7KI8x48HPP3qt40/s320/sad-ice_cube_cartoon.gif" width="220" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">Whether Weather Best Breaks Ice?<br /></span></div><br /><div align="left">Picture this - A social gathering. You are there. You meet people. You dont really know them. You have nothing to talk about. You think. You feel uncomfortable. You think again. There's silence.. And then somebody says the magical words - "Its really hot today". Then the whole lot pitches in, "yes yes!" , "actually its more humid than its hot", "there is no breeze", "it should rain sometime soon i tell you", "its all because of global warming" and on go the weather experts to finally end up in a real time conversation. </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Incase you havent been able to comprehend what this was all about, then dont blame yourself..</div>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-26479624589443416222008-02-25T22:50:00.012+05:302008-02-26T23:37:24.859+05:30Left = Right..yaa, Right<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;">Left = Right.. yaa, Right</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXWkYy6Ju_yytM7h8m8h69jsdiZkdKDnXOSUg8yYs-rEpBMfdXp6BuDkvjGJGuM57yDDjNzIpjTlU1_uupL35D5geWz_4G1XQ8gIAXWAcwV21KnH0P-GqWum5ISV9djVLruf7Df8Njngld/s1600-h/LEFT%20ARROW.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170977242128730322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 87px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 104px" height="145" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXWkYy6Ju_yytM7h8m8h69jsdiZkdKDnXOSUg8yYs-rEpBMfdXp6BuDkvjGJGuM57yDDjNzIpjTlU1_uupL35D5geWz_4G1XQ8gIAXWAcwV21KnH0P-GqWum5ISV9djVLruf7Df8Njngld/s200/LEFT%2520ARROW.gif" width="135" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXxfn2LAu4amUF2aSnc1qpNG6-jEjHLzII98MX2AAL-wuWxfeEjuueNRWYR4qpvPCfJW1FMD_y2-vG7W_lE0YM_FUBSP_vDiQJJfGYkaOLHnwKLdLSP5izNqdbkl9Mlw-tDVP8t1Xjvmp/s1600-h/right%20arrow.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170977310848207074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 83px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 98px" height="114" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXxfn2LAu4amUF2aSnc1qpNG6-jEjHLzII98MX2AAL-wuWxfeEjuueNRWYR4qpvPCfJW1FMD_y2-vG7W_lE0YM_FUBSP_vDiQJJfGYkaOLHnwKLdLSP5izNqdbkl9Mlw-tDVP8t1Xjvmp/s200/right%2520arrow.gif" width="103" border="0" /></a></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170977564251277570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 105px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 107px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="124" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwszI9x7xIf12bXrcw_HxAmhzaXdccHAOk6jJakQQBtQFI7w4WTSdiq9gCOOOa-rfGmd_LMpac2PC364IFRpHm4VmP8zv_FzJ1QNuiXpZlMW-zsS9sjZpVosCl_AVjfGUvaOnOBpGzxkon/s200/roundel07rgb1.jpg" width="129" border="0" /><br />Why does everything everytime have to be 'Right'? Why is it that we differentiate between Wrong and 'Right'? Why is the Hindi version of the 'Right' = Seedha(considered good) and Left = Ulta(considered bad)? <div><div><div><br /><p>I say.. spare a thought for the left handed population. Just because the world is dominated by 'Right' handed individuals doesnt give us undue 'Right' to make them feel left out. For instance, just think how you would have felt if the "Enter key" on the keyboard was on your left instead of your 'Right'.</p><p>Something needs to be done about all this.. something needs to be done 'Right' now!</p></div></div></div>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-27059682705953070262008-02-12T23:41:00.003+05:302008-02-13T23:09:55.674+05:30Maggi 2 Minute Noodles?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_eg7bbSvaOFiMaPQX40RKN9heVyM1j-KbIyw92iOATVGpyz3FodtPYiOG9azl5_YFqINXQ2lgnojNgmjwoo_jEHmjY_4X2HWv8yqjryVytoyiTrLgHvg4RaKsZTH8A3jhpMXalDwAMFf/s1600-h/New+Entrees+008-1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166520255781423234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_eg7bbSvaOFiMaPQX40RKN9heVyM1j-KbIyw92iOATVGpyz3FodtPYiOG9azl5_YFqINXQ2lgnojNgmjwoo_jEHmjY_4X2HWv8yqjryVytoyiTrLgHvg4RaKsZTH8A3jhpMXalDwAMFf/s200/New+Entrees+008-1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;">Maggi 2 Minute Noodles?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><div align="left"><br />Now Maggi's one of the most liked dishes by anybody.. anywhere.. ever..<br /><br />Not that i am a big fan,but its a fact, that kids to elders to kids to elders, they all love it. Reason - taste, ease of avaialability and the fact that you can prepare it in 2 Minutes.. Can You? </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Lets make Maggi -<br />1) Cut the Pack and Sachet<br />2) Empty contents in a bowl of water<br />3) Start the flame.<br />4) Boil, Boil and Boil.. - The time depends on how raw a meal can you eat.</div><br /><div align="left">Now by the best of standards, all this takes you a minimum of 5 minutes!(it takes me more all the time).. so then the question is that why are they called Maggi 2 Minute Noodles???</span></div>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-75476366943059912912008-02-03T13:08:00.000+05:302008-02-03T13:20:14.980+05:30The Chilly Myth<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;">The Chilly Myth</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;"></span> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162657634557276594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitiWh-a1FC4m8OmufHpxtoCZb_iu7TgIQL3naulWAIbBH8uaRdLhhdm2X6vNaEqx3_9I4UESTwX8hi2kuLoyx9Wp48c2EJ6Q-W6wt6vsMIDubKKDvSiQ29y5FQ560RJmiSmD1yFjVDUVpK/s200/Chilli.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Well i was wondering the other day, and here i am writing about it.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Its Chilly right now in Delhi. Its "Cold", but we say its "Chilly".</span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Then there is this spice that some people eat. It goes by the name of "Chilli" too. There are two kinds of Chilly - Red Chilli, Green Chilli.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Radio Mirchi, the Radio Station has a Chilli as its Logo. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now Radio Mirchi's Punchline is "It's Hot".</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So the question arises - Is Chilly 'Cold' or is it 'Hot'? </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Does one use the term to refer to something 'Cold', or does one use the term to refer to something 'Hot'?</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Answers Please...</span></div>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2468977057053748161.post-11735951321443183722008-01-18T22:52:00.001+05:302008-08-28T05:32:46.771+05:30Embarrassingly Funny Moments!<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;">Embarrassingly Funny Moments!</span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><div><br />There used to be this column in these things called “Slambooks”, which used to say - “Most Embarassing Moment : ” . This post here is dedicated to all such moments, moments that are embarassing for one, but funny for everyone :)</div><br /><div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">The Fire what??</span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_sevC_8KFkItzf3QYGDuESoDtjPTbnJDtt6X6Z0fh_ISWc40Y0R2wZGyMjMv-DnNZNAKS2yBAFDxWdHYhB_6yL49oHKG5yGBIie6y2a0drOQpqnckIeLJTsfyZr1NnHcDS6rutn7Nh0G/s1600-h/Fire+Brigade.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156868499357317570" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_sevC_8KFkItzf3QYGDuESoDtjPTbnJDtt6X6Z0fh_ISWc40Y0R2wZGyMjMv-DnNZNAKS2yBAFDxWdHYhB_6yL49oHKG5yGBIie6y2a0drOQpqnckIeLJTsfyZr1NnHcDS6rutn7Nh0G/s200/Fire+Brigade.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br />Class 12th, mind you, in Bold letters, <strong>Class 12th</strong>. My English examination(not the final boards), and we'd to write an essay or something. I don't remember how, but i had to write something about a Fire Brigade. “Fire Brigade”, simple word, isnt it? Oh so easy to remember.. Oh so hard to forget.. so,i am writing, and writing, and i reach the place where i have to mention the “Fire Brigade”.. and what happens to me.. i go blank! I cant remember the thing that one has to call if there's a fire someplace, i know its “Fire something”, but cant remember the exact term. So, i show some creativity, and come up with a term by myself. The term i coin is - “FIRE AMBULANCE”!!! And then i actually wrote that in the answer sheet.. The sheet came back with the term encircled. To top it all, the teacher was Nath Ma'am!(u'd know her if u studied in Apeejay Noida). </div><div><br />Its one of those incidents that just stay with you for the rest of your life :) but its all fun i must say :) </span></div>Prateek Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13212892693317382417noreply@blogger.com7