<?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-2753913275643318534</id><updated>2011-10-19T08:31:51.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Perpendicular Universe</title><subtitle type='html'>Impossible is Nothing :)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-3096232827965287083</id><published>2011-10-18T06:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-18T06:10:53.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>~~LIFE is indeed JUST~~</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lgwPM7jh04w/Tp160dnTCwI/AAAAAAAACN4/EkTgqrMGokM/s1600/26247.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lgwPM7jh04w/Tp160dnTCwI/AAAAAAAACN4/EkTgqrMGokM/s320/26247.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664818948023192322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever wondered what life is? We fall, we stand. Then we fall again, then again we stand. And this goes on and on, till the day we realise that “Only change is constant”. But in all probability, at least one strand of white hear in our head would have popped up by the time we realise this. We spend our entire lives wondering what life is. And the answer is again: We fall, we stand. Then we fall again, then again we stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember the scene in “Bruce Almighty”, when Bruce is all frustrated after having lost his job, and has been beaten up by a gang. After all this, he sees  a beggar holding a sign that reads LIFE IS JUST. Bruce says: “Just? Just get a clue!” But Bruce was wrong and that was the reason why he was going through so many hardships. When we fall, the point is not that we fell. The more important point is whether we stood up again or not-whether or not we stood up again, and told the world that we are here to conquer, and no one can ever have enough capacity to keep us to the ground!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking about the saying that “only change is constant”. I am 22 now, and if there’s one thing that I have learnt the hard way is this. You go to a place, you make friends, you pledge to be friends with them for your entire life, and one fine day, you have to leave. Then you go to another place-you make more friends, you make pledges to be friends with them for the rest of your life, and again, there comes a day, when you have to move on. Years later, you look back to see whether those friends are still there. But all you find is void, because change is constant for them too. There is no one to blame. You moved on in your own life, they moved on in theirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point that I am trying to make is: we need to accept that life can not always be happy. It is how we react to situations that really matters. Take life as it comes. Had life been an entity and you could go to it personally and request it to not give you pains, I could have still thought. But it is not in your hands to control everything that happens to you. No matter what the situation, just keep yourself going, and know that life is really short-there is absolutely no time to waste in keeping grugdes, pondering over “why only me”, and wasting precious moments. Just smile and live every moment. LIFE IS INDEED JUST :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-3096232827965287083?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/3096232827965287083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=3096232827965287083' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/3096232827965287083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/3096232827965287083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2011/10/life-is-indeed-just_18.html' title='~~LIFE is indeed JUST~~'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lgwPM7jh04w/Tp160dnTCwI/AAAAAAAACN4/EkTgqrMGokM/s72-c/26247.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-3853830553479022358</id><published>2011-06-26T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T11:27:56.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>~~ Hum chalenge, toh Hindustan chalega ~~</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ho_UANVsS_0/Tgd6GTVq77I/AAAAAAAAB8k/TGOYGxzZDbc/s1600/ind40a1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ho_UANVsS_0/Tgd6GTVq77I/AAAAAAAAB8k/TGOYGxzZDbc/s320/ind40a1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622596908484325298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many of us have tried to reflect as to what good have we ever done to our nation? And even if we have, did it really make a difference?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This awareness advertisement by the Times of India (TOI) highlights just how careless each one of us is when it comes to doing something concrete for our country. The tree, fallen on the road, represents India, which has lost its integrity, self-respect, is virtually independent but is still dependent in many ways. While everyone, including the politician, the police, and the “aam-aadmi” see the situation, they try to ignore it because they are too selfishly tied up with themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The child represents the innocence that we have lost. While at school, we are taught to be responsible, to respect our country, to help, to fight against what is wrong. However, as we grow up, we forget all this to think of only “OURSELVES”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is time to get that innocence back, to join hands to fight against the wrong; poverty; corruption; politics, et al. It is we, the people of India, who can bring a change. As the video rightly says: “Tum chalo toh Hindustan chale.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Have a pride in your existence and your actions. Nothing is ‘big’ enough for you,” portrays the campaign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-fad37e29868cc199" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dfad37e29868cc199%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331493964%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1FCF90550369897C9E00EDFC2ED1CB677D47AD04.6312DE828E9BDA9D88533C69051D5579A4294B97%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dfad37e29868cc199%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DdBTXePr_aQW9C2xSsz-Yirxtt3k&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dfad37e29868cc199%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331493964%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1FCF90550369897C9E00EDFC2ED1CB677D47AD04.6312DE828E9BDA9D88533C69051D5579A4294B97%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dfad37e29868cc199%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DdBTXePr_aQW9C2xSsz-Yirxtt3k&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Lyrics: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Falak Pakad Ke Utho Aur Hawa Pakad Ke Chalo&lt;br /&gt;Falak Pakad Ke Utho Aur Hawa Pakad Ke Chalo&lt;br /&gt;Tum Chalo Toh Hindustan Chale&lt;br /&gt;Tum Chalo Toh Hindustan Chale&lt;br /&gt;Tum Chalo Toh Hindustan Chale&lt;br /&gt;Tum Chalo Toh Hindustan Chale&lt;br /&gt;Lagaaon Haath Ke Suraj Subaha Nikala Kare&lt;br /&gt;Hatheliyon Mein Bhare Dhup Aur Ujaala Karen&lt;br /&gt;Ho Lagaaon Haath Ke Suraj Subaha Nikal Na Chale&lt;br /&gt;Hatheliyon Mein Bhare Dhup Aur Ujaala Karen&lt;br /&gt;Ufak Pe Paanv Rakho Aur Chalon Akad Ke Chalon&lt;br /&gt;Ufak Pe Paanv Aur Chalon Akad Ke Chalon&lt;br /&gt;Falak Pakad Ke Utho Aur Hawa Pakad Ke Chalo&lt;br /&gt;Falak Pakad Ke Utho Aur Hawa Pakad Ke Chalo&lt;br /&gt;Tum Chalo Toh Hindustan Chale&lt;br /&gt;Tum Chalo Toh Hindustan Chale&lt;br /&gt;Hindustan Chale"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-3853830553479022358?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/3853830553479022358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=3853830553479022358' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/3853830553479022358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/3853830553479022358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2011/06/hum-chalenge-toh-hindustan-chalega.html' title='~~ Hum chalenge, toh Hindustan chalega ~~'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ho_UANVsS_0/Tgd6GTVq77I/AAAAAAAAB8k/TGOYGxzZDbc/s72-c/ind40a1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-2188440131479435239</id><published>2010-12-19T06:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-19T06:50:14.759-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't go !!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/TQ4bnUCAnAI/AAAAAAAAATI/EWZQd7PBe_k/s1600/thedarkone12_crying_girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 316px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/TQ4bnUCAnAI/AAAAAAAAATI/EWZQd7PBe_k/s320/thedarkone12_crying_girl.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552405752800386050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, am going to narrate to you a sad tale,&lt;br /&gt;of a girl, who tried, tried, tried but failed&lt;br /&gt;of a girl, who loved a boy so much,&lt;br /&gt;but who left her, with desolation, despair and just his last touch...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There she stands, frozen, on the barren land,&lt;br /&gt;the world beneath her eyes sunk.. no sun, no moon, no stars for her,&lt;br /&gt;she's just a stone, a hard rock,&lt;br /&gt;flooded with agony and shock...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A victim of distrust,&lt;br /&gt;there's nothing left for her.. except a vision-less vision, a senseless touch, and a life full of rust!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, as he passes by,&lt;br /&gt;the boy sees her.. her pitiable sight.&lt;br /&gt;He says: "Oh dear one, are you alright? Is there anything I might?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks up after ages,&lt;br /&gt;and just sighs...&lt;br /&gt;with utter effort,she manages to utter: "Oh life, have you come? Please stay, please stay.. You're all I have.. Just stay, please stay?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He continues to walk,&lt;br /&gt;She screams: "Don't go, don't go!!"&lt;br /&gt;But he doesn't look back for even once..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On her lifeless legs, she manages some steps,&lt;br /&gt;But then she falls to the barren land, screaming: "kill me and go, just kill me and go!!"&lt;br /&gt;and as he vanishes over the horizon,&lt;br /&gt;she takes her last breath, to just merge with the earth!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-2188440131479435239?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/2188440131479435239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=2188440131479435239' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/2188440131479435239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/2188440131479435239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2010/12/dont-go.html' title='Don&apos;t go !!'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/TQ4bnUCAnAI/AAAAAAAAATI/EWZQd7PBe_k/s72-c/thedarkone12_crying_girl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-7054141646555386147</id><published>2010-09-04T09:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T10:30:23.157-07:00</updated><title type='text'>♥♥ Lost, is she? ♥♥</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/TIJ9EJqTh1I/AAAAAAAAASY/eWD8XjICDa8/s1600/Photo0394.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 287px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/TIJ9EJqTh1I/AAAAAAAAASY/eWD8XjICDa8/s320/Photo0394.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513106404121216850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She lay there, mulling over something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably about the one she not just loved,&lt;br /&gt;but adored more than anyone, anything...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's frozen with his thoughts,&lt;br /&gt;Time stands still, as she lay there, lost...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh come thou man of her dreams,&lt;br /&gt;Her heart to thou screams!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mind and soul with your thoughts stir,&lt;br /&gt;Come, and complete her!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-7054141646555386147?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/7054141646555386147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=7054141646555386147' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/7054141646555386147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/7054141646555386147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2010/09/lost-is-she.html' title='♥♥ Lost, is she? ♥♥'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/TIJ9EJqTh1I/AAAAAAAAASY/eWD8XjICDa8/s72-c/Photo0394.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-4060080104872466573</id><published>2010-08-08T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T12:04:46.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>~~♥♥♫Someone's fallen for a saand♫♥♥~~</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/TF7_qaim8AI/AAAAAAAAAR0/qrrtXzf4d58/s1600/big_bull.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 260px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/TF7_qaim8AI/AAAAAAAAAR0/qrrtXzf4d58/s320/big_bull.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503116898837393410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kindly note the sequence of events.. First, the saand is not visible.. Then it appears.. And then all the love talks begin :):):)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saand chhupa baadal me,&lt;br /&gt;sharma k meri jaanaaa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Khoya khoya saand, khula aasman...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saand re saand re kabhi toh zameen par aa,&lt;br /&gt;baethenge baatein karenge...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aya re aya saanda ab har khwahish poori hogi...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tum aaye toh aya mujhe yaad,&lt;br /&gt;gali me aj saand nikala...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maine puchha saand se, hai kya koi,&lt;br /&gt;mere saand sa hansi,&lt;br /&gt;saand ne kaha saandni ki kasam: nahi, nahi, nahiii...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saand sifarish jo karta hamari,&lt;br /&gt;deta woh humko btaa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ye saand sa roshan chehra,&lt;br /&gt;zulfo ka rang sunehra.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hehehehe. Hope you had fun reading it :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-4060080104872466573?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/4060080104872466573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=4060080104872466573' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/4060080104872466573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/4060080104872466573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2010/08/someones-fallen-for-saand.html' title='~~♥♥♫Someone&apos;s fallen for a saand♫♥♥~~'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/TF7_qaim8AI/AAAAAAAAAR0/qrrtXzf4d58/s72-c/big_bull.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-5573788014254098160</id><published>2010-03-19T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T13:28:37.819-07:00</updated><title type='text'>~~Waah ri duniya!!~~</title><content type='html'>Deti har din ek naya khwab tu,&lt;br /&gt;bunti sapne pal pal tu..&lt;br /&gt;rom rom me josh jagaati,&lt;br /&gt;phir khud hi murjha jaati tu!&lt;br /&gt;duniya, waah ri duniya!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S6PdK7CEj3I/AAAAAAAAAPk/brJy5DKcHUY/s1600-h/DSC06101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S6PdK7CEj3I/AAAAAAAAAPk/brJy5DKcHUY/s320/DSC06101.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450443153763241842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aashaon k satrangi sapne roz dikhaati tu,&lt;br /&gt;mere mann ki jyot jagaati tu..&lt;br /&gt;gaati behlaati mastaati,&lt;br /&gt;phir khud udaas ho jaati tu!&lt;br /&gt;duniya, waah ri duniya!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deti har din jeene ka ek maksad tu,&lt;br /&gt;tanhaayian mitaati tu..&lt;br /&gt;mere armaano ko dhoondti sanjoti,&lt;br /&gt;phir khud hi kho jaati tu!&lt;br /&gt;duniya, waah ri duniya!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gaalo pe laali ka, aankho me sapno ka,&lt;br /&gt;uss haseen muskuraahat ka kaaran tu,&lt;br /&gt;aj khul k gaane gunaane ka bhi kaaran hi tu..&lt;br /&gt;jeene ka ek maksad deti,&lt;br /&gt;phir khud hi marr jaati tu!!&lt;br /&gt;duniya, waah ri duniya!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-5573788014254098160?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/5573788014254098160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=5573788014254098160' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/5573788014254098160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/5573788014254098160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2010/03/waah-ri-duniya.html' title='~~Waah ri duniya!!~~'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S6PdK7CEj3I/AAAAAAAAAPk/brJy5DKcHUY/s72-c/DSC06101.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-2893402753585019571</id><published>2010-03-01T01:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T01:55:44.102-08:00</updated><title type='text'>~~~COLLEGE DAYS~~~(The Ecstatic Phase of Life)~~~</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S4uO23YZATI/AAAAAAAAAPc/FMGqSrc07Hs/s1600-h/OgAAAF6ClXVeEoLer_kJGNqwzfIfJiaoK16DUtmbz02FGou73d5jZFKWQpGjAtjkkZhH_m-ZyIlbhTIlsLxVeSSvyrMAm1T1ULcgTbKRcnhlTyv8eKynhzL5POSp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S4uO23YZATI/AAAAAAAAAPc/FMGqSrc07Hs/s320/OgAAAF6ClXVeEoLer_kJGNqwzfIfJiaoK16DUtmbz02FGou73d5jZFKWQpGjAtjkkZhH_m-ZyIlbhTIlsLxVeSSvyrMAm1T1ULcgTbKRcnhlTyv8eKynhzL5POSp.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443601647837708594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The awesome-five SMARS were the stars,&lt;br /&gt;Anil-Nishant the ultimate superstars&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Ankit our sweet angel,&lt;br /&gt;Yamini our darling damsel. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Swasti, Ms. Eternal beauty,&lt;br /&gt;Neha, the girl so pretty pretty.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Rahul, hey wazzup dude!!&lt;br /&gt;Disha, Supriya-Oh come on, don't be so rude!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Anamika, am so cute!&lt;br /&gt;Saumit, izzat li iski loot.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Himanshu, I want girls,&lt;br /&gt;Aparna, Sakshi, Meenakshi, the cute girls with the curls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deepika hamari padhaaku bachi,&lt;br /&gt;Bhavya top maar maar k na thaki &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Akhil, we don't need no education,&lt;br /&gt;Kansal, Nitin-aap test me fail ho gaye, congratulations.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Lokesh, Kunal the close buddies,&lt;br /&gt;Khanna, roaming around in chuddies&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Gulati, the id ka chaand,                                                                        &lt;br /&gt;MA k peeche chhod do koi saand!&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                         &lt;br /&gt;BK Ma'am, our last sem doze,&lt;br /&gt;Yeh Anita Madam kyun chilaati hain roz??&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;GS, our friend and mentor,&lt;br /&gt;Rachna Madam, Nainital's attraction center.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;SA, Yes Please!!&lt;br /&gt;DJ ko kiya kitna tease!!&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;This poem was a creation of tillu,&lt;br /&gt;Your cute little pillu ;) :) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-2893402753585019571?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/2893402753585019571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=2893402753585019571' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/2893402753585019571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/2893402753585019571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2010/03/college-daysthe-ecstatic-phase-of-life.html' title='~~~COLLEGE DAYS~~~(The Ecstatic Phase of Life)~~~'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S4uO23YZATI/AAAAAAAAAPc/FMGqSrc07Hs/s72-c/OgAAAF6ClXVeEoLer_kJGNqwzfIfJiaoK16DUtmbz02FGou73d5jZFKWQpGjAtjkkZhH_m-ZyIlbhTIlsLxVeSSvyrMAm1T1ULcgTbKRcnhlTyv8eKynhzL5POSp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-2043290264963799714</id><published>2010-01-30T08:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T09:06:33.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little did I know ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S2RZIkyOXjI/AAAAAAAAANs/gf78WHsYSxQ/s1600-h/Moon.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 120px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S2RZIkyOXjI/AAAAAAAAANs/gf78WHsYSxQ/s320/Moon.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432565054363819570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime at the moon I used to glance,&lt;br /&gt;Beneath it, on the clouds, I saw us dance.&lt;br /&gt;But then, you left me in a trance,&lt;br /&gt;without even giving me a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were mine,&lt;br /&gt;I used to always thank the Divine,&lt;br /&gt;Little did I know then,&lt;br /&gt;within you there were no such signs.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'll be fine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sigh.. thinking of the days gone by,&lt;br /&gt;when you smiled at me.. I fell shy,&lt;br /&gt;Little did I know then,&lt;br /&gt;that you were not the guy&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'll try not to cry...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The times you hugged me tight,&lt;br /&gt;after a huge fight.&lt;br /&gt;Little did I know then,&lt;br /&gt;that the path was not right.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'll be alright...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am, standing alone,&lt;br /&gt;Regretting the days bygone.&lt;br /&gt;For little did I know then,&lt;br /&gt;That you will be gone.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'll move on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISCLAIMER:&lt;/strong&gt; Please note that the poem above does not pertain to anybody in the World. It is purely a work of imagination and deep innovative thinking ;) :) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-2043290264963799714?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/2043290264963799714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=2043290264963799714' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/2043290264963799714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/2043290264963799714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2010/01/little-did-i-know.html' title='Little did I know ...'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S2RZIkyOXjI/AAAAAAAAANs/gf78WHsYSxQ/s72-c/Moon.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-5310450973133951522</id><published>2010-01-21T10:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T11:37:45.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>~~~COLLEGE DAYS~~~(Part 4)... Enter an Angel in disguise :)</title><content type='html'>When I first saw him, he seemed to be too involved in himself and a bit worked up as well. It was on the admission day. He stood two places ahead of me in the long queue, wearing a checked orange shirt and blue jeans. He hardly looked at the people around him and seemed to be in some hurry. He was sweating so profusely in the scorching June heat that I almost fought back an urge to go and ask him "Is something wrong? What's making you sweat so much???" Anyways, he got done with the admission and disappeared somewhere into the thin air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S1ijjm1fPPI/AAAAAAAAANk/GfUF2StQH7g/s1600-h/DSC03805.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S1ijjm1fPPI/AAAAAAAAANk/GfUF2StQH7g/s320/DSC03805.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429269182910774514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't see him anywhere on the orientation day and didn't even notice him on the first day of college. I remember that I asked him a question of discrete mathematics on the 3rd or 4th day of college and I also remember how he just shrugged and got back to what he was doing. Next I met him at the xerox shop and when I was leaving the shop, he put his hand out and did a firm handhshake with me,such confidence reflecting from his eyes! Then one fine day, after a lecture, he walked up to me and with that same confidence shot out- "Number de apna". I couldn't believe the easiness with which he said it. I mean, personally I had never met a guy ever who would say that so frankly and easily. Maybe it was beacuse of the kind of place I'd come from, where people don't mix up very easily and it takes years to come to the level of doing a handshake with them. So, here I was, being welcomed to "DILWAALO KI DILLI" by the biggest dilwala ever, none other than - "Mr. ANKIT MINGLANI"!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those kind eyes with a hint of unprecedented love for one and all, that soothing smile which made you forget all your worries, those hands which were ever willing to help others, that extreme happiness in the echo of his innocent laughter.... words, I fall short of!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God could not send my family to Delhi, so he sent Mr. Ankit Minglani, AN ANGEL IN DISGUISE, a person without whom I could not have imagined survival, especially in the initial years of college, in Delhi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that he has made an entry, let me tell you about the very first instance when he caught me while I was in the process of idle roaming around the college. He came to me and again with that same easiness asked me - "poore din aise hi akele ghoomti hai kya??" I just looked at him and gave back a smile. He then forced me to come with him and sit with a group of our classmates in the canteen. It was, perhaps, the beginning of a bond that knew no bounds, it was the beginning of a relationship that would, at some point of time, go ahead and establish itself as an epitome of true and selfless friendship.... Touchwood :) :) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-5310450973133951522?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/5310450973133951522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=5310450973133951522' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/5310450973133951522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/5310450973133951522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2010/01/college-dayspart-4-enter-angel-in.html' title='~~~COLLEGE DAYS~~~(Part 4)... Enter an Angel in disguise :)'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S1ijjm1fPPI/AAAAAAAAANk/GfUF2StQH7g/s72-c/DSC03805.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-387930761772850419</id><published>2010-01-10T04:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T05:12:17.268-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ek Sapna</title><content type='html'>ek sapna sa koi dekha tha,&lt;br /&gt;chhota sa pyaara sa...&lt;br /&gt;ek sapna jab woh toot gya,&lt;br /&gt;firta tha haara haara sa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;na sudh rahi na budh rahi,&lt;br /&gt;na sapno ki umang rahi...&lt;br /&gt;ek sapna jab woh toot gya,&lt;br /&gt;jaise saara jahaan chhoot gya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S0nRaWGbIcI/AAAAAAAAANc/8beT5fb1uYo/s1600-h/DSC06031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 273px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S0nRaWGbIcI/AAAAAAAAANc/8beT5fb1uYo/s320/DSC06031.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425097476683801026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;na chandaa ki chandni gaati,&lt;br /&gt;na dhalte sooraj ki sheetalta bhaati...&lt;br /&gt;ek sapna jab woh toot gya,&lt;br /&gt;jaise apna sa koi rooth gya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ek sapna tha woh bechara sa,&lt;br /&gt;anjana sa begaana sa...&lt;br /&gt;ek sapna jab woh toot gya,&lt;br /&gt;jaise sooraj hamesha k liye doob gya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bade laad se usse pala tha,&lt;br /&gt;sanjoya tha nikhara tha...&lt;br /&gt;ek sapna jab woh toot gya,&lt;br /&gt;jeene ka matlab hi chhoot gya...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-387930761772850419?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/387930761772850419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=387930761772850419' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/387930761772850419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/387930761772850419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2010/01/ek-sapna.html' title='Ek Sapna'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S0nRaWGbIcI/AAAAAAAAANc/8beT5fb1uYo/s72-c/DSC06031.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-4651573631976581495</id><published>2010-01-03T01:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T01:54:13.665-08:00</updated><title type='text'>~~~COLLEGE DAYS~~~(Part 3)... Enter Nishant Gupta :)</title><content type='html'>I am supposed to be an ambivert, I keep fluctuating between an introvert and extrovert depending on the situation. We were all new in the college, people were forming groups and becoming friends. It's the most difficult task for me-mingling with new people. In the breaks between the lectures, I either made my way back to my hostel nearby or hovered alone in the college premises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One such day, when my process of hovering was on, ENTER:: NISHANT GUPTA!!..&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S0BjhjQnqII/AAAAAAAAANE/L3a2zQyjj-s/s1600-h/OgAAAOHjLduCGxOu3wZVcp1SXQamht-rXrvj0tXwPZFrel5dBSnucYdv07voRcA5_-WeAKvILaAW-ZLpJmZ9KQqN6doAm1T1UKNDAoExLP4G2Mn5uS5T9ut2FF39.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 319px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S0BjhjQnqII/AAAAAAAAANE/L3a2zQyjj-s/s320/OgAAAOHjLduCGxOu3wZVcp1SXQamht-rXrvj0tXwPZFrel5dBSnucYdv07voRcA5_-WeAKvILaAW-ZLpJmZ9KQqN6doAm1T1UKNDAoExLP4G2Mn5uS5T9ut2FF39.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422443379405858946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I will not start by showering any words of praise for this person as I have for others in my earlier posts.. We will together try to analyse and understand this one creature, and maybe we can sooner or later decide on who and what he is.. he he .. So again, ENTER:: NISHANT GUPTA&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nishant(as he sees me walking by)  -&gt; Arey suno Anuja&lt;br /&gt;Anuja                              -&gt; Haan?&lt;br /&gt;Nishant?(waving his hand violently)-&gt; Hiiiiiiiii&lt;br /&gt;Anuja(with a smile)                -&gt; Hello&lt;br /&gt;Nishant(sitting on LP stones)      -&gt; yahaan aao na&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anuja walks towards him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nishant                            -&gt;Baetho naaa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then in a very meek and low voice,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nishant                            -&gt; Tumhaare bina humara dil nahi lagta!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Off the post: Nishant is actually going to kill me for this! Sorry pishutious, this is the reality and you ought to face it ;) )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretended as if I hadn't heard his last sentence. And he lived under the misconception that I had not heard it.. Not that he meant anything but this is how this guy is, he will go to any level of craziness and madness to create a light mood. And that is how he has been from that point of time till even today.. I have still not praised him, it will probably come at a later stage and I want to do full justice to it ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we sat and chat there for some time. We had probably taken the first step towards a friendship that would stay forever and ever. But little did we know then that we were two junglees from the same jungle and that he was BDAA ANUJA and I, CHHOTA NISHANT :) :) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-4651573631976581495?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/4651573631976581495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=4651573631976581495' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/4651573631976581495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/4651573631976581495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2010/01/college-dayspart-3-enter-nishant-gupta.html' title='~~~COLLEGE DAYS~~~(Part 3)... Enter Nishant Gupta :)'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/S0BjhjQnqII/AAAAAAAAANE/L3a2zQyjj-s/s72-c/OgAAAOHjLduCGxOu3wZVcp1SXQamht-rXrvj0tXwPZFrel5dBSnucYdv07voRcA5_-WeAKvILaAW-ZLpJmZ9KQqN6doAm1T1UKNDAoExLP4G2Mn5uS5T9ut2FF39.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-9056263589692451047</id><published>2009-12-13T06:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T07:24:29.645-08:00</updated><title type='text'>~~~COLLEGE DAYS~~~(Part 2)... First Day In Class :)</title><content type='html'>A plump girl who looked more like a boy with her short hair, in a red shirt and a 3-4th capri enters the class. She is nervous as well as excited on seeing so many new faces. She was shy and hardly talked, just looked at the others and smiled meekly. &lt;br /&gt;You guessed it right! It was me "ANUJA SHARMA" !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were given the time table for the first semester and surprisingly, we had classes till 3 p.m. on the very first day! "This is going to be tough!"-I thought to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First lecture: enter a boy in the classroom. We thought he was probably a senior. But then he went and stood near the teacher's desk and introduced himself- " Am Gaurav Saxena, and am going to take your Java classes".. "God!!! Such a smart teacher!!", I could hear some girls whisper. Little did we know then that this young teacher is going to be our mentor, guide and a good friend in the coming 3 years. Gaurav Sir commenced with the lecture.............. AND THEN.... SHOOK THE WORLD, as a pack of seniors enter the classroom and request him to let them spend some time with us. We knew their naughty intentions and kept our fingers crossed. Gaurav Sir was acquiescent to their request and left the classroom. That was it! I remember how over-enthusiastic and united these people were when they entered the room. Nishi, Siddhi, keshavi stood out for me amongst the girls and amongst the guys I think Angad, Lakshay and a few others. They didn't leave even one of us! Amongst those extra-ragged was Saumit, our brother from Bihar. What flabbergasted me was the fact that Saumit gave it all with equal enthusiasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember Nishant Gulati being questioned-"Who would you choose from these two girls?", as they pointed towards me and Swasti. Swasti, a real beauty!, with those dazzling brown eyes and that extra cut which could blow away any mind! God would have taken a long time to paint her :).. Needless to say, he chose her. And I could sense Nishant Gulati blushing after he'd made the choice ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, they called me to the teacher's desk. "Tell us your hobbies"-they ordered. I started-"Singing, dancing, swimming......".......... "SWIMMING?????"-Shot out someone. "Chalo swimming karke dikhao..". I lay down with my stomach on the desk and showed them how to swim without water... "Ok now propose this guy"-they said pointing towards Rabi Poddar, another senior.I started- "Aap mujhe bohot achhe lagte ho, mujhe aapke gaal bohot achhe lagte hain,baal bohot achhe lagte hain.Will you marry me?"... That was probably the last time that senior had looked at me, never in 3 years after that he looked in my direction.. he he :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.batchmates.com/institution/returnimagephoto.aspx?flname=7185871858_pict.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 329px; height: 161px;" src="http://www.batchmates.com/institution/returnimagephoto.aspx?flname=7185871858_pict.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We dreaded it, but finally we loved it. Thanks to all those seniors. So happy, excited and full of energy they all seemed to be! They injected in us a part of that energy and directly or indirectly shouted out to us-" WELCOME TO HANSRAJ COLLEGE, THE LAND OF FUN AND FROLIC!!!! :):):)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-9056263589692451047?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/9056263589692451047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=9056263589692451047' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/9056263589692451047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/9056263589692451047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2009/12/college-dayspart-2_13.html' title='~~~COLLEGE DAYS~~~(Part 2)... First Day In Class :)'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-8786740437534062208</id><published>2009-12-05T05:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T06:12:19.762-08:00</updated><title type='text'>~~~COLLEGE DAYS~~~( Part 1)</title><content type='html'>It's the June of 2006. The auditorium of Hansraj College, Delhi University is packed with fachchas, semi-pakkas and fully-pakkas.. As I put my first foot inside, a sense of excitement engulfs me.. "this is going to be exciting!!"-somebody shouts inside me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.indianetzone.com/photos_gallery/9/Hans-Raj_9940.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 147px;" src="http://www.indianetzone.com/photos_gallery/9/Hans-Raj_9940.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the orientation at the auditorium I meet some of my new friends. I really can't recall the others, but Meenakshi was on of them. This girl manages to grab your attention at the very first sight-sleek, stylish, flamboyant, curly hair-very fair :). So together we head towards the canteen. My first impression of DU colleges was that they are known to be full of notorious seniors-who will not miss a chance to rag or gag on a junior. So although my teeth managed to crunch that piece of food in the canteen, my eyeballs rolled from one corner to the other to look for something unusual. And then, as if our worst fears came true, we started to sense some ragging going on(It couldn't have been loud, since there were cameras put all over the college). Poor little things, we managed to make an escape then. But little did we know, that there was lots to come and that there was no escape key on this keyboard!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming up soon.. Part 2-First day in the class. Read on :) :).... In the meanwhile help me by adding your own experiences and views... maybe this is how we can relive that incredible past again :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-8786740437534062208?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/8786740437534062208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=8786740437534062208' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/8786740437534062208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/8786740437534062208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2009/12/college-days-part-1.html' title='~~~COLLEGE DAYS~~~( Part 1)'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-4897822292165868036</id><published>2009-09-13T09:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T10:11:23.581-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Starting with 'I THOUGHT I SAW.....'</title><content type='html'>I THOUGHT I SAW an unidentified flying object!! All thanks to a news channel which managed to horrify,petrify and not just awake but shake the darkest of fears in me. Their show " SOMEONE's LOOKING AT YOU " one night happily gifted me with a sleepless night. They will have repeated "Someone's looking at you" almost 'n' number of times and everytime with the same thrust and vigour that I actually started looking at my windows to see if there was an alien peeping inside. They kept showing those ghost-like faces and I very foolishly succumbed to their horrow show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_58/1147010414tL30o5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_58/1147010414tL30o5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It finally ended but what continued was the continuous flashing of that alien face in my mind. I didn't turn off the lights, and tightly hid my face with the pillow(to the extent that I could have choked myself to death) but that image wouldn't go. And what more can one ask for in such a dire situation-'the Nature's call' rings. I tried to control but a Nature's call is a Nature's call and even Nature cannot do anything about it. So, I had no other option but to give up. I rushed towards the toilet, making sure not to look at the windows, and continuously chanted 'om om om om'[Now I realise jaadu from 'Koi Mil Gya' would have gladly flown down to the earth again with that 'om om' but thank stars I didn't realise it then].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The restlesness continued the whole night and it continues till today, as every time I look up at the sky and see an airplane blinking, the first thought that comes to me is 'I THOUGHT I SAW an unidentified flying object'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might have been very casual and light in my approach but it's a serious issue that I wish to put forth. Exasperation of petty issues on the T.V. is all that is left in store of the news channels. They will go on and on with the lamest and the most unimportant topic and in two shakes of a lamb's tail they will manage to draw the attention of foolish people like us. It is for us to realise that it is their way of getting themselves noticed and gain supremacy over the other channels. Not only are they ignorant to other serious issues in the country but they are also ignorant to humanity. They are sick people blinded by money,name and fame!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-4897822292165868036?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/4897822292165868036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=4897822292165868036' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/4897822292165868036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/4897822292165868036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2009/09/starting-with-i-thought-i-saw.html' title='Starting with &apos;I THOUGHT I SAW.....&apos;'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-6667005223070745839</id><published>2009-09-13T09:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T09:46:42.711-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SEVEN signs it's time to take a bath :D</title><content type='html'>1.) When you don't have to make an effort of reaching for your armpits and smelling them,the odour itself,very gracefully,travels to your nose.&lt;br /&gt;2.) When you cannot cover your face completely with a blanket while sleeping, bet you'll die of suffocation and sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;3.) When the strongest of perfumes throw their hands up in contempt.&lt;br /&gt;4.) When the neighbours start complaining of a foul odour coming from somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;5.) When you raise your arm in a bus/train and 10 people stare at you with disgust while making a useless effort of covering their nose.&lt;br /&gt;6.) When a close one who does the mistake of hugging you complains of acrid odour and seems to be no longer a close one.&lt;br /&gt;7.) When the whole body seems to be unpleasantly itching,don't think of going to a chemist,JUST GO-TAKE A BATH!! &lt;a href="http://openclipart.org/people/liftarn/liftarn_Running_pig.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 199px;" src="http://openclipart.org/people/liftarn/liftarn_Running_pig.png" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the pigs run after you with delight, and the cat flicks her whiskers(when she thought she'd just smell dead fish) then all I can say is "Cure is better than prevention".. take a chance- visit the bathroom :D :D :D :D :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-6667005223070745839?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/6667005223070745839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=6667005223070745839' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/6667005223070745839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/6667005223070745839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2009/09/seven-signs-its-time-to-take-bath-d.html' title='SEVEN signs it&apos;s time to take a bath :D'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-8298008027830945056</id><published>2009-06-11T09:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T10:25:32.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why your Mother always walks beside you- "Compiled (TOI)"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjE5GjwuWhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/0hvKg5QXdQw/s1600-h/mother-child-hand_~k0079139.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 316px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjE5GjwuWhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/0hvKg5QXdQw/s320/mother-child-hand_~k0079139.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346117017507093010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young mother set her foot on the path of life. “Is this the long way?” she asked. The guide said: “Yes, but the way is hard, and you will be old before you reach the end of it. But the end will be better than the beginning”.&lt;br /&gt;But the young mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. So she played with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, bathed them in the clear streams; and the sun shone on them. But the young mother cried, “Nothing will ever be lovelier than this”.&lt;br /&gt;Then the night came, and the storm, the path was dark, and the children shook with fear and cold. The mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle. The children said, “Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come”.&lt;br /&gt;The morning came, there was a hill ahead and the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary. But at all times she said to the children, “A little patience and we are there”. So the children climbed. When they reached the top they said, “Mother, we would not have done it without you”.&lt;br /&gt;The mother, when she lay down at night looked up at the stars and said, “This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned fortitude in the face of hardness. Yesterday I gave them courage; today I have given them strength”.&lt;br /&gt;The next day came strange clouds which darkened the earth, clouds of war and hate and evil. The children groped and stumbled. The mother said: “Look up. Lift your eyes to the light”. The children looked up and saw the clouds above in an everlasting glory, which guided them beyond the darkness. That night the mother said, “This is the best day of all, for I have shown my children God”. The days went on, the weeks, the months and the years. The mother grew old and she was little and bent, but her children were tall and strong, and walked with courage. When the way was rough, they lifted her, for she was light as feather. At last they came to a hill and beyond they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide open.&lt;br /&gt;The mother said, “I have reached the end of my journey. Now I know the end is better than the beginning, for my children can walk alone, and their children after them”.&lt;br /&gt;The children said “You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates”. As they stood and watched her as she went on alone, the gates closed after her. They said: “We cannot see her but she is with us still. A mother like ours is more than a memory, she is a living presence…”.&lt;br /&gt;Your mother is always with you… She’s the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street. She’s the smell of soap in your freshly laundered socks. She’s the cool hand on your brow when you’re not well. Your mother lives inside your laughter. She’s crystallized in every tear drop. She’s the place you came from, your first home. She’s the map you follow with every step you take. She’s your first love and your first heartbreak, and nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space… not even death!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-8298008027830945056?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/8298008027830945056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=8298008027830945056' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/8298008027830945056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/8298008027830945056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2009/06/why-your-mother-always-walks-beside-you.html' title='Why your Mother always walks beside you- &quot;Compiled (TOI)&quot;'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjE5GjwuWhI/AAAAAAAAAG0/0hvKg5QXdQw/s72-c/mother-child-hand_~k0079139.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753913275643318534.post-777224593863535013</id><published>2009-06-11T01:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T01:35:27.088-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CHANGE</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;As I sit down today to write down the first post of my blog, I ask myself "What is the biggest thing that has happenend to me of late?". And the only answer i get is "Change".&lt;br /&gt;Change and movement are the only constants in life- the fact that day follows night and that spring and autumn are both equally meaningful ,makes life more joyful and complete. As we align to this law of nature, and learn to integrate all our experiences, we renew ourselves and grow.&lt;br /&gt;And so I conclude that change is unavoidable and that change may cause pain but it is a temporary phase and will slowly pass by. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2753913275643318534-777224593863535013?l=anujasharma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/feeds/777224593863535013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2753913275643318534&amp;postID=777224593863535013' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/777224593863535013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2753913275643318534/posts/default/777224593863535013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujasharma.blogspot.com/2009/06/change.html' title='CHANGE'/><author><name>Anuja Sharma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05812684251226541798</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XtY_C11thIg/SjFj7uVGmtI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mB1XxoIodwU/S220/Picture+(1).jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
