<?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-245925209477519324</id><updated>2011-07-30T13:22:58.057-07:00</updated><category term='beggary'/><category term='rant'/><title type='text'>Green Petals</title><subtitle type='html'>Beyond the rules of nature and mankind, lies a land where imagination thrives.
Something without which life is as spooky and dark, as is this place..
Add color to life..</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-2900779850186339449</id><published>2011-06-08T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T09:08:09.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rebooting the blog - Panne</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(32, 32, 32); font-family: 'Droid Sans', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ek kitaab si meri zindagi &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Panne kuch iske bikhar gaye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Na mere paas hain na tere&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Na jaane ud kar kidhar gaye &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mere astitva ke tukdon se aaj &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tere hoothon ki ye muskaan hai&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bichadte un tukdon ko dekh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nain bhi mere baras gaye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ek kitaab si meri zindagi &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Panne kuch iske bikhar gaye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aankhon ki roshni se meri&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Duniya aaj teri ye jagmag hai&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yaadon ki tokri ke bojh ke tale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Armaan bhi mere tadap gaye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ek kitaab si meri zindagi &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Panne kuch iske bikhar gaye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Na mere paas hain na tere&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Na jaane ud kar kidhar gaye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-- tishru the poet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-2900779850186339449?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/2900779850186339449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=2900779850186339449' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/2900779850186339449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/2900779850186339449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2011/06/rebooting-blog-panne.html' title='Rebooting the blog - Panne'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-6817449903933836749</id><published>2009-04-17T11:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T12:21:02.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't hide the candles</title><content type='html'>OK. First of all, I dont know where I was for the last few months. :| And I start off with yet another rant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People in society are mere hypocrites. Why? They cannot accept what's real. They tend to live in the imaginary world of their own and like to suck into it as many number of people as they can.&lt;br /&gt;The context may not be clear to the reader as of now. Its about the tradition where the not so famous-but thinks is famous aunt with wrinkles still says that "Oh dear.. Don't call me aunt no? I am just five years elder!" Oh God. People celebrate their 25th anniversary for 50 years. OK thats &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;some&lt;/span&gt; exaggeration but still. Just trying to make  my point. Why should one's age be something to be ashamed of? Doesn't that (in most of the cases) show how much experience one gains with time ? It does.&lt;br /&gt;I really adore the male community for not having such stupid issues ( Though they might have more stupid issues that I might not be aware of). I hope I find some valid justification or some historical evidence to this phenomenon observed in at least the higher end of the 'cosmetic' society.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-6817449903933836749?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/6817449903933836749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=6817449903933836749' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/6817449903933836749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/6817449903933836749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2009/04/why-should-one-hide-number-of-candles.html' title='Don&apos;t hide the candles'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-8956227891094608994</id><published>2008-12-20T20:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T21:09:21.246-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beggary'/><title type='text'>Are we going to lose it?</title><content type='html'>The problem of beggary is too common to be discussed i feel. Every one of us would have at least thought about it, either when our peace of mind after coming out of a temple session is disturbed by them or when they hover around in trains and traffic signals.&lt;br /&gt;Yes it feels sickening to know that there are people out there who are so much in need of help. The way they ask for things just appeals to your human side. You feel that there does not exist anything else worth so much attention.&lt;br /&gt;But how many times? You find that person sitting at the same place everyday. Asking and screaming blatantly. The newspapers further overwhelm you with information that they earn 30 grand per month and then you think is it really worth all your attention?&lt;br /&gt;The professionalization of beggary has started eroding our humane instincts. It is true. But the question is, should we surrender to their exploitation of our weaker and softer side or hold a strong stand and ignore them so that some day they realize that this isn't going to work. That might prick our conscience a bit because we might be ignoring the ones in actual need. But something needs to be done before our entire race becomes blind to actual misery because of the ones faking it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-8956227891094608994?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/8956227891094608994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=8956227891094608994' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/8956227891094608994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/8956227891094608994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2008/12/are-we-going-to-lose-it.html' title='Are we going to lose it?'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-2838538586108078112</id><published>2008-11-25T20:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T20:54:45.972-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My days with rain in Chennai</title><content type='html'>I wake up to see coconut leaves dripping water and falling right on my face. The place I am staying is kinda spooky that way. You never know which corner will flood and when.&lt;br /&gt;I am in 'Mad'ras. The point I wish to emphasize here is not the ambiance of my stay, but what has rendered it so horrible. The rain.&lt;br /&gt;Every morning , lazing , trying to avoid rain and procrastinating till limit tends to infinity and falls down from there, I wake up and start on my 'journey' ( i always wonder how it wud have been if i went on some salt satyagraha instead) . I have to cross more rivers than there are in Konkan railway. My feet drown sometimes in colorful waters and then re-emerge to my happiness. Oh God! I thought I was going to be an amphibian! Relief.. Then I get showered by the  generous creepy crawlies on the road. Dude! I already had one in the morning. If you thought that wasn't enough you could have explicitly told me! Too much. After numerous such incidents, fighting wit the evil rain and traveling along with my new travel mates the frog, the insect, the err i dont know what to call it.. hmm larva seems good... I reach my destination. All schools and colleges are closed today thanks to the extra sensitive (to light :P) MK government. I am here typing my experiences in a place that boasts of being what it is due to people who do not bother about above stated conditions and still come and work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Those who read this, Please pray that it stops raining. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-2838538586108078112?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/2838538586108078112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=2838538586108078112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/2838538586108078112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/2838538586108078112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-days-with-rain-in-chennai.html' title='My days with rain in Chennai'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-2659897793403239399</id><published>2008-09-25T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T09:42:05.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Black" Shift</title><content type='html'>Oh my god.. I cant believe this is happening. My sleep timings are shifting to what they were when i was in school!! God knows what is the reason.. :O Just that it feels weird, being in NITK . :)&lt;br /&gt;Anyways it might be due to lack of interesting things on LAN to watch, or just that nothing is good enough to catch my attention. Easiest reason to come up with is i love sleeping and prefer to get few extra hours on that! Or... those damned 8 o clock classes can be blamed too. Lets see how long this continues. May be i will post again when i get back to being a normal 'NITKian'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Black Shift corresponding to Red/Blue Shift :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-2659897793403239399?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/2659897793403239399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=2659897793403239399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/2659897793403239399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/2659897793403239399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2008/09/black-shift.html' title='&quot;Black&quot; Shift'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-7950929409779512150</id><published>2008-08-05T03:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T09:46:10.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whats in a name?</title><content type='html'>I am now quite used to what people call me, as in my nick name, and i assume if u know me, u definitely know what it is or at least what i am talking about. LOL. It was a hell lot of embarrassment when i had just come to know what it means over here. People had advised me to change so many profile entries in orkut. It took ages for me to find out what was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, time just makes things better. I was wondering what if I am the last one to have the 'privilege' of being called that? Sad. Now after being in this college for two years I have come to know the general beliefs associated with my 'nick' name..&lt;br /&gt;1. The person must know java.&lt;br /&gt;2. The person is some god level nerd...&lt;br /&gt;3. The person is ob in IT.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to do with the name, just that it usually turns out to be true... What to do??And maybe many more i am not aware of yet. Its so taxing to live up to some of these beliefs. But then advantages accompany too. Its a rarer name than Shruti!! Sigh. Lets see if i manage to convince myself to sport it on my tee too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-7950929409779512150?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/7950929409779512150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=7950929409779512150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/7950929409779512150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/7950929409779512150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2008/08/whats-in-name.html' title='Whats in a name?'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-7107483589745954737</id><published>2008-07-29T02:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T02:36:44.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vicious Blah!!</title><content type='html'>I wonder why..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- We wash clothes, wear them , and wash again.&lt;br /&gt;- We sleep, to get up,and sleep again.&lt;br /&gt;- We climb four floors, to come down again. :(&lt;br /&gt;- We write tests, to pass, and write them again.&lt;br /&gt;- We eat, digest , and then eat again.&lt;br /&gt;- We oscillate between the days and nights again and again..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is everything so monotonous???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-7107483589745954737?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/7107483589745954737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=7107483589745954737' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/7107483589745954737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/7107483589745954737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2008/07/vicious-blah.html' title='Vicious Blah!!'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-147377726770312718</id><published>2008-07-25T02:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T02:29:54.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Smiles Per Hour</title><content type='html'>I keep looking at faces. When they pass by in malls, on roads and so on. Its literally impossible to remember all of those tiny little faces , which, though have the same features, differ and reflect the personality. What i remember is the people, who are strangers, yet seem familiar because of that smile. Yes, Smile is believe it or not, one of the tremendous powers human beings possess. In addition to the biological and scientific facts that it relaxes facial muscles and also exercises them, it really pleases the person on the other side.&lt;br /&gt;Like today. The lady who cleans our blocks, had come to my room and i had to ask her to mop it. I generally, feel sad to see the section of society which has been kept away from opportunities which are available to us. And hence, to see someone do something for me, when i am capable of doing it myself pinches. I am for equality in standard of living . Now, to say why all this is related to a smile, I smiled and expressed my gratitude to that lady and she smiled back at me. Ok its not a great thing maybe. But yes, it did ease my unknown guilt. To see her smile, maybe because of the satisfaction she derived from her work. That says it all.&lt;br /&gt;Smile as it means a lot. ( I don't really know what more, but yes it does. ) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-147377726770312718?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/147377726770312718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=147377726770312718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/147377726770312718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/147377726770312718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2008/07/more-smiles-per-hour.html' title='More Smiles Per Hour'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-5280882000487746691</id><published>2008-07-17T00:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T00:03:07.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lock 'em Up</title><content type='html'>People say dreams are what we want to do and our unconscious mind reminds our conscious through dreams. So I just love watching legal stuff, criminal cases and mysteries and above all fiction and supernatural things. Obviously i dream about things i would never do.&lt;br /&gt;Recently i got to know about one of my weird wishes. I want to see a police station from inside, as well as see the jail. Now I am sure what i have been watching in TV isnt what it really looks like.&lt;br /&gt;So I have come up with small and harmless ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Break traffic signal and hide license. They will take me in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Say I want that corrupt inspectors interview for my err college or club magazine. (CSI wont allow though :D)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. "Sir, that constable is my uncle. I got him food." Let me go in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Become a social worker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Pick something up from road and run. The crowd will take me there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. "Oooh Sorry!! I thought this was my ummm (scratches head... Oh yes! ) tailor's shop!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then i will stop getting dreams of me going in there! C'mon im not gonna be a ghost just because this one wish of mine wont come true. So ppl please suggest better and feasible ways u have any.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-5280882000487746691?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/5280882000487746691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=5280882000487746691' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/5280882000487746691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/5280882000487746691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2008/07/lock-em-up.html' title='Lock &apos;em Up'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-2922979706590285628</id><published>2008-07-09T10:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T11:23:47.652-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RAFA-MY NEW STAR</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, first of all I am not such a huge fan of sports, but i do like tennis. I happen to watch the final clashesof Rolland Garros and Wimbledon almost every year since my childhood days. The excitement is just one of its kind. When Rafa was crowned 'the clay king'i was delighted and was in high spirits! I remember once he had sprained himself in the French open finals against Fedex and i was restless about the chances of him winning the Slam! He won the title for the fouth time this summer. Now my only dream was to see him kiss the wimbledon trophy as well this season. Inherently i tend to support Nadal in all the matches he plays against Fedex. Oh well i have no prejudices against Roger, he being one of the greatest players of all times.But still, to see Nadal beat him, gives some high!! Anyway Federer happened to make lots of unforced errors and his game seemed less neat in front of Rafa's this year. After a mind boggling match that lastedlonger than any other Wimbledon finals, my sweet Nadal won it. I was pleased to see him end the 65 match winning streak of World No.1 on grass. Afterall Nadal did it! Why not! Fans like me support him and jump around with enthusiasm when he lies down in the court after an exhilerating victory! And yes I celebrated the victory of my new-found sweetheart on grass by giving a treat the very next day! Lol. I wish he wins all the forthcoming Slams in the next season as well and leaps 550 odd points ahead. Let him rest for a while. He deserves it along with an accolade. :) Cheers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-2922979706590285628?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/2922979706590285628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=2922979706590285628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/2922979706590285628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/2922979706590285628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2008/07/rafa-my-new-love.html' title='RAFA-MY NEW STAR'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-1097210816084142705</id><published>2008-06-21T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T10:45:32.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confusion..?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;One of my friends asked me to think about this and express my views on it. The topic being “love cannot be true if it fulfills emotional, physical, intellectual or any kind of need”. Well it is a bit confusing for me as well. But I thought of jotting down few thoughts that came to my mind.&lt;br /&gt;            Firstly, when one expects something out of a person, one becomes selfish. Selfishness is contradictory to the ideal definition of love.&lt;br /&gt;            Secondly, expectations cause disappointment and one keeps depending for one’s needs on others. Love is on the other hand not depending, but letting someone depend on you. Strange.&lt;br /&gt;            Also, with these restrictions, true love is rare, as one of the above stated needs (emotional, physical…blah blah ) is the initiator of the feelings in most of the cases. We want someone to be there, to listen and so on. Why will anyone need or love someone if one isn’t getting anything out of it in today’s world? So, according to my small brain of limited thinking capacity, yes the statement made is true, but only for divine love which is no where to be found on earth now. Hence, let’s be happy and content even if we human beings look out for fulfilling our needs through love, as whatever it is, isn’t it mutual? So we are nobody to criticize others. We all are the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-1097210816084142705?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/1097210816084142705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=1097210816084142705' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/1097210816084142705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/1097210816084142705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2008/06/confusion.html' title='Confusion..?'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-1172122039426389945</id><published>2008-06-21T10:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T10:41:31.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ORIGAMI</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I just happened to see few kids playing with paper boat and planes in an ad. It made me remember those (g)olden school days. People at home used to get puzzled when they saw my notebooks getting thinner and thinner day by day. My daily pencil usage was around 2.5 J. So what did I do with my notebooks? Any guesses? Its obvious. Paper Craft!!&lt;br /&gt;A japanese art which is so common among kids because it is overwhelming to see those sheets of paper, which generally torment the poor souls, suddenly turn into appealing tiny little pieces of art as well as handy toys in those tiffin breaks. Awesome fun.&lt;br /&gt;Frog was my favorite. It used to flutter on my desk when blown into it.  Innocent giggles echoed in the class. To move a frog wasn’t any lesser than what it is today to say crack a god damn problem. Worth of an achievement is judged by the happiness it gives. Rains and the boats along with hitting each other with paper planes, naughty acts and the company of our good old notebook. I shall make a bird now! J   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-1172122039426389945?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/1172122039426389945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=1172122039426389945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/1172122039426389945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/1172122039426389945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2008/06/origami.html' title='ORIGAMI'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-883593965651073190</id><published>2008-06-03T11:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T11:06:16.598-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are we dumb or they cleverer?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Switch on the idiot box and the same plethora of emotions is whacked on our faces. The same so called seductive vamps clad in backless blouses and heavy coats of make-up, even our mining pals wouldn’t dare dig. They play those ridiculous mind games which even an average IQ kiddo can thrash in seconds. But nop. The goddess like main character who has to steal away all the limelight will be dead if the directors follow basic human instincts. She will make a hue and cry, attract public attention ask for SMS votes as to what to do and then finally do nothing. Blah. I wonder what the lead actor’s IQ is. Perhaps on a negative scale. OK. So where were we? Yes, those tantrums accompanied by the unbearably loud background score in which another moron keeps screaming her lungs out and the endless treasure of glycerine and tears have captured the minds of today’s audience. It doesn’t end here. The villain , most preferably a female for the guys to drool, keeps planning murders, accidents and executes them with extreme perfection. And Oh boy! There is the dead man alive again. Guess what? Dead man loses his memory (to be gained after hmm say 2 months). In this period of two months, how can I forget to mention the several romantic engagements which would further drag the nonsensical melodrama for another decade. And this isn’t the end of it. The harassment, torture and not to forget the crying continues sometimes till next birth. LOL. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The leaps in time would puzzle an Einstein too. Millions (exaggeration) of kids are born to all the characters. Ages of characters cannot be guessed by mere mortals. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Phew. I could think of only few. Why do they keep making such stuff? Just because we are dumb enough to waste our time watching it? Or that they are cleverer in predicting our instincts? Our intellect is in jeopardy. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-883593965651073190?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/883593965651073190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=883593965651073190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/883593965651073190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/883593965651073190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2008/06/are-we-dumb-or-they-cleverer.html' title='Are we dumb or they cleverer?'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-3667034638843437154</id><published>2008-02-05T03:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T03:45:20.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SURVIVAL</title><content type='html'>I want to crawl&lt;br /&gt;Before lights fade&lt;br /&gt;Before my eyes fail&lt;br /&gt;To intrude the dark&lt;br /&gt;I want to crawl&lt;br /&gt;To the line of life&lt;br /&gt;Before the race ends&lt;br /&gt;Before the heaven calls&lt;br /&gt;I want to crawl&lt;br /&gt;To the ocean of peace&lt;br /&gt;Before in agony&lt;br /&gt;I get caught&lt;br /&gt;I want to crawl..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-3667034638843437154?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/3667034638843437154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=3667034638843437154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/3667034638843437154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/3667034638843437154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2008/02/survival.html' title='SURVIVAL'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-9134254111683602216</id><published>2008-02-01T21:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T21:45:54.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WIPE OUT</title><content type='html'>There are few things which are buried deep in the soils of one's not so conscious mind. What is required for them to re emerge is just a few drops of water. That sprinkle of water can be one's utter desire to keep things in memory. The millions and billions of neurons store things that are dearest to us. And we are ready to do anything just to keep the plant of memories alive and green inside us.&lt;br /&gt;            What happens when these precious banks begin to become bankrupt? It feels like someone is pulling away minute threads out of the immense bunch of entwined fibre which cant be felt by our mere earthly senses.&lt;br /&gt;               Wipe out. An ultimately horrifying experience. You know that u are trying to remember something. But where is it? U wander in the dark unexplored streets of ur mind, not knowing where to go. U cant find the way out too because there is no source of light. U fear u will be sucked into the darkness. The memories u want are finally not there. They are wiped out. And u know that. Nothing can be worse. As one dies, all the streets which had a sign board showing the name of the wonderful thing they remembered for u begin to fade away. They are demolished and u know that they are being done so. A true helpless feeling.&lt;br /&gt;A biological sign ? That we are mere mortals and there are few things we won't be able to control ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-9134254111683602216?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/9134254111683602216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=9134254111683602216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/9134254111683602216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/9134254111683602216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2008/02/wipe-out.html' title='WIPE OUT'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-3264657930844446194</id><published>2007-12-30T10:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T10:32:57.778-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Procrastination..is the thief of time?</title><content type='html'>Well that’s absolutely true. Procrastinating tasks munches away the precious slices of time in tiny bits. But isn’t it true that procrastinating things makes us feel there is a lot more of time to do the same thing? A different perspective is that I feel it stretches the time line. Now by that I don’t mean its actually stretched or any such non-scientific fact. The thing is, it can be as well compared to the Doppler effect where the change or shift is just apparent and relative to the viewer.&lt;br /&gt;Same is the case with postponing tasks. If that’s done at a highly extreme rate, one might reach the other end without realizing that it was just apparent that there was a lot of time in hand! On the other hand, if one shifts a given piece of work by a little amount of time, the empty slot of time made available by the deliberate shift, makes one relax and energizes mind for the successful completion of the work shifted and others too!&lt;br /&gt;Now everything has a boundary! J&lt;br /&gt;But as far as my opinion is concerned, hmm I advocate a little of procrastination!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-3264657930844446194?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/3264657930844446194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=3264657930844446194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/3264657930844446194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/3264657930844446194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2007/12/procrastinationis-thief-of-time.html' title='Procrastination..is the thief of time?'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-6421582418858989694</id><published>2007-10-14T03:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T03:31:40.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Zebra Crossing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Hey! Remove this multi-colored carnival bed cover and spread a milder one! The colors prick my eyes...Switch off the damn lights! I want to be in the dark.. I want to be alone...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Sounds familiar? Oh yes. These are the words uttered by all of us at some point of our lives or the other. Maybe u said it a while ago?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This is the quest for peace. Serenity. Makes me wonder though.. Are we actually colorful? Or as they say white is the color of calm and peace.Believe it or not, human mind runs behind white in certain situations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Irony. Darkness is not bright,and white. Yet peaceful. So calm and quiet. Now the million dollar question!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;White or Black? Where will I find you?...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Keep pondering... Till my next post!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-6421582418858989694?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/6421582418858989694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=6421582418858989694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/6421582418858989694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/6421582418858989694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2007/10/zebra-crossing.html' title='Zebra Crossing'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-4308334563984961294</id><published>2007-09-22T11:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T12:00:44.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gratitude</title><content type='html'>There was a flower,&lt;br /&gt;Fragrance it spread,&lt;br /&gt;I looked at it,&lt;br /&gt;Knowing not what i wanted...&lt;br /&gt;The flower danced,&lt;br /&gt;The garden smiled,&lt;br /&gt;The wind giggled,&lt;br /&gt;For each other they were made...&lt;br /&gt;I stopped for a while,&lt;br /&gt;Wished to be a part,&lt;br /&gt;Of the loveliest of joy,&lt;br /&gt;And my wish was granted...&lt;br /&gt;I praise the wind,&lt;br /&gt;I thank the garden,&lt;br /&gt;I adore the flower,&lt;br /&gt;For accepting a stranger,&lt;br /&gt;In the realm of happiness,&lt;br /&gt;They always shared....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-4308334563984961294?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/4308334563984961294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=4308334563984961294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/4308334563984961294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/4308334563984961294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2007/09/gratitude.html' title='Gratitude'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-5228834428621163339</id><published>2007-07-10T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T11:13:46.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy doormatting!</title><content type='html'>I remember long back during my school days my friend used to talk about being a doormat. As my habit is, I used to laugh and forget the matter thinking of it as a joke. Or the fact could be that I wasn’t interested in thinking about it. Now , giving it a thought, I can say that ‘being a doormat’ phase of anyone’s life is the most painful one!&lt;br /&gt;     Here goes the story of a doormat…. It is beautiful, colorful and is used by numerous people who don’t even notice what they are using! The doormat lies there on the doorsteps, cleaning others dirt and getting dirty instead. And the reward! Yes, the final reward that it gets is that it gets torn into bits by overuse and is replaced….&lt;br /&gt;   What a fate! So any doormats out there???? Beware…. Don’t get exploited is the trend of today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-5228834428621163339?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/5228834428621163339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=5228834428621163339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/5228834428621163339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/5228834428621163339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2007/07/happy-doormatting.html' title='Happy doormatting!'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-6384263651861343269</id><published>2007-07-09T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T10:58:50.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Manpower....</title><content type='html'>I wonder at the meaning of manpower. Is it the mere population count or the effective population? well....by effective population i mean that fraction which is skilled and contributes to the growth....of infrastructure or resources.&lt;br /&gt;  India having such a huge population and with a high fertility rate should have been the most prosperous country... but we know the truth.&lt;br /&gt;    It is heard that china is suffering from major labor crisis. i guess because of low fertitily rate one day there will be a HR crunch there.&lt;br /&gt;   so where is our country? behind or ahead?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-6384263651861343269?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/6384263651861343269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=6384263651861343269' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/6384263651861343269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/6384263651861343269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2007/07/manpower.html' title='Manpower....'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-4083508585677103368</id><published>2007-07-09T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T10:49:55.759-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blaze....</title><content type='html'>16.5 degrees , the temperature set in that air conditioned hall. Outside, the sun was at its maximum shine and the clocks ticked 2 p m. Oh well, coming to the point, the drastic difference between the natural and the man made is what I am pondering on…  Had anyone known that a day would come when the creativity of mankind would take over the natural rules and phenomenon….. Thanks to the inventor!&lt;br /&gt;The scorching sunlight and the rushing hot air at 40+ degrees, (cant call it wind…its too pleasant a word I guess…) burns down the epidermis of the skin as if it were giving that withheld message of nature. “ look what u have done! It  is beyond the range set for man!”.&lt;br /&gt;And you say… “Oh hell…what nonsense! I possess all rights to make my life comfortable” . Well said! Bravo!&lt;br /&gt;The rift between nature and mankind!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-4083508585677103368?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/4083508585677103368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=4083508585677103368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/4083508585677103368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/4083508585677103368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2007/07/blaze.html' title='Blaze....'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-3231739963555929533</id><published>2007-04-12T09:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T09:30:52.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Intersection of wishes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well it might appear a bit mathematical. But the analysis is  worth giving a thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;People live because they are driven by the spirit of fulfilling what they want to achieve.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;These spirits are in other words the wishes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;      There are many aspects and there are as many things we wish for. Say you want to drink some soft drink. But you don't want to leave any possibility for catching common cold. In this case isn't it clear that the intersection of both the wishes is null?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;      Till one has a strong will to confront challenges and handle those efficiently the intersection set is almost null. The generalisation of this condition is the popular saying in hindi, translated as " To achieve something one has to sacrifice some other thing!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But is it always true? Well don't get confused. The idea is to make people think. How to be happy and content with one's life is important and so one has to know the apposite ways to make it that way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So people , if you know mathematics well and good. I have conveyed my thought. And if u don't, then..... just be happy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-3231739963555929533?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/3231739963555929533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=3231739963555929533' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/3231739963555929533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/3231739963555929533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2007/04/intersection-of-wishes.html' title='Intersection of wishes'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-2757680350056472540</id><published>2007-02-02T02:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T03:28:41.428-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whats in a race?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;                On your marks.....Get..Set...GO!!! And there goes a crowd running, like starved people for a sumptous meal.....&lt;br /&gt;                Though u might wonder how a starved person can sprint, but necessity is the mother of 'intentions'.&lt;br /&gt;I always wonder what is the whole point in making people so obsessed with that one sprint. It is not a question for life or death ! People and most importantly youngsters develop this passion.&lt;br /&gt;                The situation is comparable to this. You are a slave,bound with a contract to your master who happens to practice black magic.The brain is robbed of its original capacity to process situations and arrive at conclusions. Now one fine morning you are given orders to just run. You run, run, and run. You keep running for some so called bounty which, u have no idea doesnt exist at all!&lt;br /&gt;                Or another analogy would be the ancient mariners looking for the end of the surface of earth. No results but the mind is preoccupied to such an extent with the thought of victory that they dont care what they are doing!&lt;br /&gt;                Now &lt;strong&gt;thats one of us....&lt;/strong&gt; If one has ever participated in a dash or sprint (many other delicious synonyms exist to take people in), the fact must be crystal clear.&lt;br /&gt;                Some people may say it tests your speed, efficiency and all such nonsensical things. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But is that worth it?&lt;br /&gt;                So next time you find yourself wearing some funny outfit, with hundreds of people making noises and cheering up, (to be more apt, fun) with that illuding red carpet like track in front, God save you!!! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-2757680350056472540?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/2757680350056472540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=2757680350056472540' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/2757680350056472540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/2757680350056472540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2007/02/whats-in-race.html' title='Whats in a race?'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-245925209477519324.post-267765503178721942</id><published>2007-01-27T21:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-27T21:38:58.035-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The name</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Everything is destined and fixed to change. See the irony,'fixed to change'. It depends on people if they let things change or make them change, but eventually, they do change. The escapist tendencies never come to rescue. Some people believe that their ability to manipulate things gives them the required power!! But the crude reality is that its a gradual and involuntary process which has to be unconsciously accepted by everyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;       Morph is to change, to make one undergo the vicious cycle of drastic and strategic processes which change the entire outlook. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Posts will keep coming....:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/245925209477519324-267765503178721942?l=ignisfire.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/feeds/267765503178721942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=245925209477519324&amp;postID=267765503178721942' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/267765503178721942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/245925209477519324/posts/default/267765503178721942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ignisfire.blogspot.com/2007/01/name.html' title='The name'/><author><name>Mirage</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00735521320648967746</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dzNTw8b1RDE/R6P6UwyfvVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/ybq30P4Tjcg/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
