tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39859308726331343852024-02-08T03:19:00.362+05:30KBeaniePeople call me PSYCHO!!!!!!!
And I don't know why? Follow me on twitter "@kbibek"Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16335275017896132892noreply@blogger.comBlogger195125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3985930872633134385.post-44593756539711780002015-03-12T10:06:00.001+05:302015-03-12T10:06:22.708+05:3030 days of being a father<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9kU79xt0Uw7MWoe5JFITzq0qycNrWGVBcIThNrGVorgxXBf5gO-oQwuyMUtDJbDfoTqr1Abgo7b-Cs6GsStzGkP9L9G4XMPjRdsK3D8G3_zLcqbQK0DKeHSqaWd8JA04C87iOlJ1aFY/s1600/father.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9kU79xt0Uw7MWoe5JFITzq0qycNrWGVBcIThNrGVorgxXBf5gO-oQwuyMUtDJbDfoTqr1Abgo7b-Cs6GsStzGkP9L9G4XMPjRdsK3D8G3_zLcqbQK0DKeHSqaWd8JA04C87iOlJ1aFY/s1600/father.png" height="200" width="155" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She came into my arms a few days before I was expecting her. And the first time, I was very scared to hold her. She was probably fast asleep, and I didn't want to wake her up. May be she would cry out loud if I disturbed her, and I still didn't know how to soothe a crying baby. Although I wanted to hold her, I wasn't sure if I was ready yet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My wife asked me to bring the baby nearer to her. I was scared, and I tried not to let anyone else know. I hesitated. She smiled and said, "It's OK. Even I am scared". And then I picked her up, as slowly as I could, trying my best not to wake her up. And after a few seconds, she was in my arms, still asleep, and that was a feeling which I would never be able to express. And from then on, I realized, I was already ready to be a father.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's been a month now. She is doing great. So is her mom. And I am doing great as well, as a father. :)</span><br />
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<br/><b>2. </b><b>You</b><b> </b><b>always</b><b> need help</b>. Wherever you go, and whatever you do, no matter how intelligent or rich you are, you always need someone's help.<br/>
<br/><b>3. </b><b>There's</b><b> </b><b>never</b><b> </b><b>enough</b><b> </b><b>time</b><b>.</b> You might be the kind of person who loves to sleep, or like me, who hates sleeping. Either way, you never get enough time.<br/>
<br/><b>4. </b><b>You</b><b> </b><b>will</b><b> </b><b>not</b><b> </b><b>be</b><b> </b><b>understood</b><b> </b><b>at</b><b> </b><b><b>times</b></b><b>.</b> It was the same even with Einstein. An Einstein could only understand Einstein. And since most people are no where near like you, be ready to have heated arguments at least 5 times a week. At times you would be crazy, just like Einstein, and you wouldn't find an Einstein who would listen and understand you.<br/>
<br/><b><b>5. </b></b><b><b>Don't</b></b><b><b> </b></b><b><b>believe</b></b><b><b> </b></b><b><b>in</b></b><b><b> </b></b><b><b>destiny</b></b><b>.</b> Believe me. Hahaha.. OK don't believe me. It's just a concept. It just doesn't work in real life. I wasn't destined to write this post. I wasn't sleepy, and was thinking about life.</p></div><br/><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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</p></div><div class="blogaway-section"><br/><p>I thought I should do about <b>12-16 </b><b>kms</b><b> a day</b>, at least 4 times a week. Not from the very first day, but gradually reach that target in a few weeks. The very first day, I did about 5 km. The next, 11 km and yesterday 15 km. I got to my target pretty quickly, which I had never thought I could. Cycling is a lot easier than running in the treadmill I thought. But I used to run about 30 minutes and complete 5 km. So, I thought to reach the 15 km mark, I have to push really hard. But I got to that pretty easily.<br/>
<br/><b>Talking about the roads,</b> about 30% of the distance I bike is just gravels or pot holes. The other 70% of it is quite decent. But the <b>BBMP</b> is hyperactive all the year round. And you should expect the unexpected when it comes to roads here. One fine day, you notice, the road you always take to your office is dug up and you would barely able to be walk over them. At times like this, you feel elated and proud when the frustrated gas guzzlers are sitting ducks, and I just lift my bike up and cross over to the other side.<br/>
<br/>Even on roads which are pretty bad for cars and motor cycles to vroom by, I could still maintain a decent amount of pace. I lift myself up from the seat, curve my shoulders and flex my leg muscles to prepare for those rattly shocks from the rocky terrain, and feel like John Abraham, when my bicycle overtakes all the traffic, and I murmur to myself, <b>"Dhoom machale!!!"</b>.<br/>
</p></div><div class="blogaway-section"><br/><p>Its been just over 2 weeks, and I have done 75 km already. By this year end, I am planning to complete at least <b>3000 </b><b>km</b><b> </b><b>on</b><b> </b><b>my</b><b> </b><b>bicycle</b>. I think that's a decent target for me.<br/>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7WfmUEQRGchyphenhypheneTIXm2YvdoiaEME8SD6-USV2RCwLfVXWu2APBxHeIpCUjORnVhXfBPSjUBpInnGgnFMTlhry9SlR88BNZaQknEr9UqGuZVilkQghyphenhyphenHaPQM6SGqVmHyPs04TVBW6_ti9U/s1600/Screenshot_2014-12-27-18-12-09.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7WfmUEQRGchyphenhypheneTIXm2YvdoiaEME8SD6-USV2RCwLfVXWu2APBxHeIpCUjORnVhXfBPSjUBpInnGgnFMTlhry9SlR88BNZaQknEr9UqGuZVilkQghyphenhyphenHaPQM6SGqVmHyPs04TVBW6_ti9U/s1600/Screenshot_2014-12-27-18-12-09.png" height="200" width="112" /></a>Finally, I got it. After months of planning and postponing, I got myself a bicycle. OK. Now stop sneering please. I know you must have heard this plan of mine last year. But, it's finally official. I am a proud owner of a two-wheeler, which doesn't run on petrol.<br />
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And that was my first ride. The Bangalore roads are so bumpy, that I realized that it needs a seat cushion urgently. Or may be I should wait for a few more days, and see if I get adjusted to it. I haven't been on a bicycle in the last 12 years. It's quite surprising that I still remember how to ride one. The first few minutes were very awkward, but then I got used to it.<br />
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As for accessories, I just got one unusual one, an Odometer. :D<br />
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I guess, that would help me motivate everyday, to keep counting the distance and speed.<br />
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I wanted to buy a bicycle, the cheapest one, without all the hifi stuff. But when I walked into the showroom, I kept thinking. And I couldn't control my urge of upgrading to a better one. My brother-in-law, who accompanied me, didn't do anything except laughing. He tried to help, but failed at stopping me from spending away all the cash for that extra odometer.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9eIsDLxL_nmE-LJTUuyDPMmFbxUarBNis2RS8jT31ug-sC7VlngY5Yv-NRITmxVcenbvYlFoirkGIYzr1358hAoTVdBFlpFoUdO2gU4RSMjIDija8m4xuaEaREe_0yup1Tfi2qNF3dwc/s1600/IMG_20141227_184327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9eIsDLxL_nmE-LJTUuyDPMmFbxUarBNis2RS8jT31ug-sC7VlngY5Yv-NRITmxVcenbvYlFoirkGIYzr1358hAoTVdBFlpFoUdO2gU4RSMjIDija8m4xuaEaREe_0yup1Tfi2qNF3dwc/s1600/IMG_20141227_184327.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></div>
I ended up spending almost double of what I was prepared for. Only time will tell if it was worth.<br />
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The current reading on the odometer shows 15 Kilometers, that's for 2 days. My first experience on riding a bicycle on Bangalore roads was not pretty nice. Bumpy roads, pot holes and other crazy drivers are not at all friendly to people on bicycles, but for now, I am determined to ride on.<br />
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"Happy Cycling." The bicycle shop guy greeted me when I got onto it. It was a feeling which was a little weird but nice. They don't say the same thing when you buy a car or a motor bike. I hope there's some good reason for that.<br />
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Well, my wife didn't buy me a Lamborghini, yet, I am writing just one more post.<br />
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We were just siting and watching some boring TV program, and could here a distant noise. After a few minutes, we could tell that there were some children singing songs, beating the drums, and knocking on all doors. They are very loud, louder than we were used to, but we wondered what the children were up to. After some time, there was silence. We heard the footsteps, the hustle-bustle and the murmurs. We know they were coming towards our door. It obviously was something nice, we hoped.<br />
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The bell rang, and my wife opened the door. And that was the view. They started singing, beating the drums again, and shouting.<br />
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The little Santa offered a bag of gifts, and we took 3 chocolates. And then they invited us for the Christmas celebrations which would happen the next day. Here are some photos from the event.<br />
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It was red all around. Kids and their parents, all in red. And there were 2 Santa Claus(s). There was some dancing, singing and some more.<br />
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We got plum cakes as well, which the wife was craving for so many days now. And she was really excited when the kids invited us to the party. She was, actually, in her mind, hoping that they will distribute Plum Cakes after the party. She just randomly makes a wish, and wishes for the wish to be fulfilled that very moment, just like magic. If she doesn't get what she wants at that moment, she doesn't want it again the next moment. I really can't express how it works for her, but she is like a wishing(not washing) machine. And most of the wishes don't come out from her mouth. I am supposed to read her mind. The only thing I could try is keep playing the guessing game. Believe me, it's not as easy as a multiple choice question with 4 options. It might well be a question, which has either no options, or has millions of them.<br />
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But now, since she got her plum cake, I can take some rest, and breath normally, until she wakes up in the morning. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Somewhere in Bhutan</b></td></tr>
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<div class="blogaway-section">
<br />
<b>2014</b> is coming to an end in a few days. And celebrations have already started all over. Everyone is gearing up for the holidays, packing their bags, and are all eager to vanish away from the busy life.<br />
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<b>Here I am, still "Wasting Life!!!".</b><br />
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This is probably going to be my last post of 2014 unless my wife gifts me a Lamborghini on the New Year. :D</div>
<div class="blogaway-section">
<br />
<b><i><span style="color: #d91818;">Wish</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;">you</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;">all</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;">a</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;">very</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;">Merry</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;">Christmas</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;">and</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;">a</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;">Happy</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;">New</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #d91818;">Year</span></i></b>. </div>
<div class="blogaway-signature">
<br />
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<div style="padding: 5px; text-align: center;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-VE0dr3M3At0/VHtdXa4EXBI/AAAAAAAAviQ/4XTtW9Fv4hQ/1417370133556.png"><img height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-VE0dr3M3At0/VHtdXa4EXBI/AAAAAAAAviQ/4XTtW9Fv4hQ/1417370133556.png cursor: pointer;" style="border-radius: 2px; border: 1px solid; max-width: 400px; padding: 5px;" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>My Blog Map</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div dir="ltr">
I have been blogging for a few years now. Close to about 6 years. And I have blogged from a lot of places. My map shows that I have mostly blogged in India. Well, there's one post from Bhutan. And the western India still doesn't have one of my posts yet.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
My blogging frequency has decreased drastically. I do not specifically know the reason for that. May be because I am married now. Hahaha...</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Writing short posts on my phone does help. A quick note with an image from your gallery is all you need to create a post in minutes. The formatting is not perfect, but then, I can fix it when I am back to my computer.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The good thing about mobile blogging is that I don't have to get to my computer always. And I can write a post in pieces. That really helps sometimes, when ideas are not freely flowing in, and you are easily disturbed.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<b>You</b><b> </b><b>can</b><b> </b><b>work</b><b> </b><b>on</b><b> </b><b>it</b><b> </b><b>from</b><b> anywhere, from </b><b>your</b><b> </b><b>toilet</b><b> </b><b>to</b><b> </b><b>your</b><b> </b><b>boring</b><b> </b><b>office</b><b> </b><b>meetings</b><b>. </b><b>I</b><b> </b><b>don't</b><b> </b><b>do</b><b> </b><b>either</b><b> </b><b>of</b><b> </b><b>them</b><b> </b><b>though</b><b>.</b></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr">
My phone has so many forgotten pictures. Whenever I start browsing the pictures on my phone, I often find a nice picture which captures my attention for a long long time. It brings back memories. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Its a similar feeling when I am randomly browsing my old posts. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Pictures</b><b> </b><b>are</b><b> </b><b>worth</b><b> </b><b>a</b><b> </b><b>thousand</b><b> </b><b>words</b><b>?</b> </span></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="color: #0315ee;">Memories</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #0315ee;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #0315ee;">are</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #0315ee;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #0315ee;">even</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #0315ee;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #0315ee;">more</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #0315ee;"> </span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #0315ee;">precious</span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: #0315ee;">.</span></i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="color: #0315ee;"><br /></span></i></b></span>
<b><i><span style="color: #0315ee; font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.beanie.blog&hl=en&referrer=kbeanie.com" target="_blank">Posted Via Blogaway</a></span></i></b></div>
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It's been only a year that I am married. Today is our first marriage anniversary. And I wished my wife with this.<br />
<br />
"<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><b><i>Happy Anniversary..</i></b></span><br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<b><i>365 days, and it doesn't yet feel like a year. Time really flew. And the next 60 years would fly away just as fast <span class="_4-k1 img sp__T1pMfqhj4w sx_4acd63" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yf/r/rRIXfBz7vis.png); background-position: 0px -8003px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: 26px 8239px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></span></i></b></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px; margin-top: 6px;">
<b><i>No jokes today here, but I am not sure why was I laughing so much in your cover photograph. I guess, I knew that day, these smiles would be more pronounced for the days and years to come. I wish to smile and laugh all day long till my cheeks hurt, with you. So, let's start a next year with all smiles and joy. Again, A very Happy Anniversary to you.</i></b><span style="color: #4e5665; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">"</span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">And this:</span></div>
<div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOt7Toc72m7-3ZdGjG14D63iGqq0vMEewSmhmkiE5-sUjgDpfRm_B2ymD1QERbfu_Z2Bjnx6jImeJXJTCWkxfNlQqcmtK0BRbYeBjNtJCFtg2sizEt6dz0ydlF0X_yTMFkgrXOYEHqMaY/s1600/10622904_10154898163845026_5605110849464151189_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOt7Toc72m7-3ZdGjG14D63iGqq0vMEewSmhmkiE5-sUjgDpfRm_B2ymD1QERbfu_Z2Bjnx6jImeJXJTCWkxfNlQqcmtK0BRbYeBjNtJCFtg2sizEt6dz0ydlF0X_yTMFkgrXOYEHqMaY/s1600/10622904_10154898163845026_5605110849464151189_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Surprisingly, she laughed out loud, and really hard, and for a long time. Frankly, I thought I just ruined our anniversary with that image. But I guess, the message accompanying that saved me.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><b>The outcome? </b>Well, no one did the cooking. We didn't starve though. We ate loads of stuff, some readymade, and some ordered from outside. We had decided that we would cook all our meals, but, that plan didn't work out somehow.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">And since it was "<b>International Men's Day</b>", she didn't let me cook either. I am not complaining. It was a day when we just sat together, talked, watched TV, attended phone calls and gathering blessings and wishes. Just a simple day, without any worries. Now that she has gone to bed, I can find some time to write about today and the year that has gone by.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><b>Happy Anniversary!!! </b>This is just one year of togetherness. Thanks for everything, and I am sure you would want to thank me a lot more.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>Note to others:</b> She has already thanked me verbally for being a pretty good husband. </span></i></span></div>
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<p dir="ltr">Its been a very long time here, for various reasons outside my control. If the rains don't stop by evening, I might as well come back again then.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Bus rides are comfortable, although I have a few arguments against them. My new office is farther from the old one, and its in the heart of the city. The only viable road to the new office is heavily crowded during office hours. And I thought riding a bike to and fro would be very painful. It's been about a week bow that I have been travelling by bus. Although it has been quite comfortable, I end up spending more than 2 hours of my day in travelling.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So I have been able to get back here after such a long time. Last week I was trying to read some articles on my phone to use up the idle time on the bus. But it didn't work out. The roads were bumpy, and I had to concentrate very hard to avoid the distractions. Writing, in such a scenario seems a little better since you don't have to focus for long stretches. Think a bit, write a bit. Wait... Thinking....<br></p>
<p dir="ltr">Looks like its raining inside the bus as well. The roofs are leaking a bit. I have changed two places inside the bus, but looks like its leaking from everywhere. The roads are flooded. It is advisable to take the bus instead of your bikes in such weather, if you are in Bangalore. Its better to be inside a leaking bus instead of being in the splashes of the vehicles on the roads, especially, when you are going to the office and you are not carrying a spare set of clothes.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I am just 15 mins away from my office now. Have to get prepared for de-boarding. Its going to take a bit of effort.</p>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcFyuE8uOxklfCTDYg8skoEyUyfckA3dawkdJWyXDAgHbR47OW-YCD7tQq9dz5S2lGVmkIObCiI7AUaIcK5gBvtJ1DhLjYckUiDamrC71TMMTZbFf2FMp3nd6XIcQDg85sLSffKIlZYUs/s1600/IMG-20140927-WA0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcFyuE8uOxklfCTDYg8skoEyUyfckA3dawkdJWyXDAgHbR47OW-YCD7tQq9dz5S2lGVmkIObCiI7AUaIcK5gBvtJ1DhLjYckUiDamrC71TMMTZbFf2FMp3nd6XIcQDg85sLSffKIlZYUs/s1600/IMG-20140927-WA0005.jpg" height="266" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I don't love fruits, so, when I have to eat them, it's an uphill task for me. By the way, my favorite fruit is water-melon.<br />
<br />
<b>Some nutritional facts:</b><br />
1. Contains 6% sugar and 91% water by weight.<br />
2. Source of Vitamin C.<br />
3. Water melon rinds (outer shell) is used to make pickles.<br />
4. Watermelon juice can be made into wine. :)<br />
<br />
I don't like to spend much time in eating. Not because I am lazy. So, I was looking for some techniques of removing the rinds in the shortest time. And I found this video.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/x-S3cXJrQqk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
That's for peeling. Here's one for cutting a watermelon into smaller pieces so that it's ready to eat. Although I don't follow this technique completely, mine is a variant of this.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/D68Lck4Y5Ig?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br /></div>
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<p dir="ltr">500 published editions, and 5 crore copies sold till date.</p>
<div style="text-align: center; padding: 5px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2AmNaIsF8HvYrXDYfue7OpgkFrxoW6WS2ZGpr0sRru5oBQ1DqcYW5SYiob-HZjrPtH71uY5k5knYiIwhoQ4pjcX4CItmh0AuBvoYq-0MNOEJcEfGwNfWqRfGlVLQCJSv9A-NqQJLZbBU/"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2AmNaIsF8HvYrXDYfue7OpgkFrxoW6WS2ZGpr0sRru5oBQ1DqcYW5SYiob-HZjrPtH71uY5k5knYiIwhoQ4pjcX4CItmh0AuBvoYq-0MNOEJcEfGwNfWqRfGlVLQCJSv9A-NqQJLZbBU/ cursor: pointer;" width="320px" style="border: 1px solid; border-radius: 2px;padding: 5px; max-width: 320px " /></a></div><p dir="ltr"><b>Raman: </b>With 100 editions, Raman managed to win the hearts of several comic book lovers across the subcontinent.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Copies sold till date: 60 lakh</p>
<div style="text-align: center; padding: 5px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4R9G2-LtLZqkyvKK46XMyDyHgyphSuzpoUFrn42V3kc_88TgS9wJA-TXBmmP6pvT6hlxkM592xJI-cXPGkGiMv1NqrV8hGqhMoZJj1K2XeCM6ZGtrMxJOpzwRyMd_uHPOKtRNu3cYGS4/"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4R9G2-LtLZqkyvKK46XMyDyHgyphSuzpoUFrn42V3kc_88TgS9wJA-TXBmmP6pvT6hlxkM592xJI-cXPGkGiMv1NqrV8hGqhMoZJj1K2XeCM6ZGtrMxJOpzwRyMd_uHPOKtRNu3cYGS4/ cursor: pointer;" width="320px" style="border: 1px solid; border-radius: 2px;padding: 5px; max-width: 320px " /></a></div><p dir="ltr"><b>Billoo</b><b>:</b> The Indian Archie, likeable by girls but not so 'Casanova Friendly', who is a great fan of cricket. </p>
<p dir="ltr">No one has ever seen his eyes due to the hair cover.</p>
<p dir="ltr">200 editions of Billoo.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Copies sold till date: 2 Crore</p>
<div style="text-align: center; padding: 5px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOjDwNGkUXtCIE5o_MeDVFyOj3Y8lb1JaATtQQ_Z1mh4d2op7JsNjxqGTPhKmFqJQBkdlo3koNMC2QVqCa-sAyISA0zFJb5osiE0NvTqmyx77fQpOYVxSHxfL8q83IU2C_scxTJS5PNxE/"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOjDwNGkUXtCIE5o_MeDVFyOj3Y8lb1JaATtQQ_Z1mh4d2op7JsNjxqGTPhKmFqJQBkdlo3koNMC2QVqCa-sAyISA0zFJb5osiE0NvTqmyx77fQpOYVxSHxfL8q83IU2C_scxTJS5PNxE/ cursor: pointer;" width="320px" style="border: 1px solid; border-radius: 2px;padding: 5px; max-width: 320px " /></a></div><p dir="ltr"><b>Pinky</b><b>:</b> She is just a five-year old girl, who means no harm but ends up creating a mess. She is the <i>Desi</i> version of <i>Denice</i><i> </i><i>the</i><i> </i><i>Menace</i><i>.</i></p>
<p dir="ltr">Copies sold till date: 2 Crore</p>
<div style="text-align: center; padding: 5px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAXQ84b3rDDPYySfTcw9-Y7nyTEB-5KSubM25Atigy9pfEVpXnvX9YzoQqGnZiPj62I2X0uLHO67jkO2PGuYOMUWQR3NbfIasegNKtrXvSNvhXlJhuRvt4748HvoU8Rmz89WATTv7TcqE/"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAXQ84b3rDDPYySfTcw9-Y7nyTEB-5KSubM25Atigy9pfEVpXnvX9YzoQqGnZiPj62I2X0uLHO67jkO2PGuYOMUWQR3NbfIasegNKtrXvSNvhXlJhuRvt4748HvoU8Rmz89WATTv7TcqE/ cursor: pointer;" width="320px" style="border: 1px solid; border-radius: 2px;padding: 5px; max-width: 320px " /></a></div><p dir="ltr"><b>Shrimatiji</b><b>:</b> The series depicts the day-to-day life of Shiela and her husband Kishore. Despite the difficulties in coping with the spiralling prices, the couple goes on cracking jokes on each other and enjoying the life as it comes. Since its creation in 1968, the book has 60 editions.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Copies sold till date: 60 lakh</p>
<div style="text-align: center; padding: 5px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8xc97of3NpiH47H2vXWB2FMIBKV7mCMJHteCOGe1guENQkejf7v-sehy3Ov8ngI7PCIuhKtgu_qTHyFBnm9LmdDzB9HjwkYKeUBXk_tlU-alNi9H4i5WctUblE2yqPvJsdNWydDjiCc/"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8xc97of3NpiH47H2vXWB2FMIBKV7mCMJHteCOGe1guENQkejf7v-sehy3Ov8ngI7PCIuhKtgu_qTHyFBnm9LmdDzB9HjwkYKeUBXk_tlU-alNi9H4i5WctUblE2yqPvJsdNWydDjiCc/ cursor: pointer;" width="320px" style="border: 1px solid; border-radius: 2px;padding: 5px; max-width: 320px " /></a></div><p dir="ltr"><b>Channi</b><b> </b><b>Chachi</b>: The meddlesome fat woman, who lives next door, Channi Chachi was another one of Pran's creation that received acclaim. 50 editions.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Copies sold till date: 50 lakh</p>
<p dir="ltr">Pran Kumar is no more. The celebrated, iconic cartoonist, who was the creator of so many legendary creators has left a void. I dont know if kids are still crazy about comics, but I was a die-hard fan of Chacha Chaudhary.</p>
<p dir="ltr"><b><i>Note</i></b><b><i>:</i></b><i> </i><i>Images</i><i> </i><i>and</i><i> </i><i>snippets</i><i> </i><i>are</i><i> </i><i>taken</i><i> </i><i>from</i><i> "</i><i>The</i><i> </i><i>Financial</i><i> </i><i>Express</i><i>", </i><i>dated</i><i> </i><i>August</i><i> 10, 2014.</i></p>
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<p dir="ltr">- Putting on and off my shoes and socks. That's like 10 precious minutes of my morning.</p>
<p dir="ltr">- Reaching the gym. Each second before I enter the door, I think of skipping it that day.</p>
<p dir="ltr">- Even after I reach the gym so early, there are already so many people lined up near the treadmills.</p>
<p dir="ltr">- Right after I enter the gym, all the pretty girls are about to finish their workout.</p>
<p dir="ltr">- There's always a queue in front of the water cooler, especially when I am out of breath, and my throat has gone completely dry.</p>
<p dir="ltr">- I follow all the rules of the gym, while the more muscular guys do whatever they want.</p>
<p dir="ltr">- My determination for the day just drops off after the first 20 minutes of working out.</p>
<p dir="ltr">- When I am ready to leave, more pretty girls start pouring in through the doors.</p>
<p dir="ltr">- Just when my determination bounces back, my muscles give up.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Every day is a new day. I have been a bit irregular at the gym for the last few days. And I am planning to get back to my usual routine from tomorrow. That's going to be hard though after so many days of abstinence. So, need to sleep early, and set the alarm back at 5:00 AM. Good night.</p>
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<div style="padding: 5px; text-align: center;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiDE6esuqdG2aeDMbtUm4rJXQo0JrKhpO-zvlsfV_B2zdbY1-QLHgZhJfiCyFsccPIfq6yQapVVjDWTu2JiNGemBjee4neMfmknWXUACytcJ1mdlXDj2hyBpQ_YL3fAy4brDc0eZ-I4A/"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiDE6esuqdG2aeDMbtUm4rJXQo0JrKhpO-zvlsfV_B2zdbY1-QLHgZhJfiCyFsccPIfq6yQapVVjDWTu2JiNGemBjee4neMfmknWXUACytcJ1mdlXDj2hyBpQ_YL3fAy4brDc0eZ-I4A/ cursor: pointer;" style="border-radius: 2px; border: 1px solid; max-width: 400px; padding: 5px;" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Riding away</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div dir="ltr">
Its been close to 4 years that I got this machine. <b>And 30k kilometres doesn't sound that big.</b> The longest distance that we covered in a day was about 370 kms in a day. And the other day, on my way back home. So, the longest trip was about 750 kms in 2 days, although we had a 3 day break in between. The plains, hills, the sun and the rains, made that ride, one to remember forever. I keep planning my next long trip all the time, but something or the other always comes up. Monsoon is here, and I really like riding in the rains. I have started liking the splashes of drain water from other vehicles somehow. I don't actually love them, but I don't care about them these days. <b>Perhaps, they are a part of the package.</b></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<b>I am 31 and I am married.</b> So are the friends. Everyone is busy. The bachelors of my batch have become extinct. Some of them still jump at the idea of going on a bike trip in the rainy seasons. But schedules keep clashing. And some of them have upgraded to 4 wheels. I still haven't yet. And they grin at the idea of a bike trip. For one reason, they wouldn't want to get wet or get sweat. The other understandable reason; they spent loads to be behind the wheel. Some of them wouldn't even mind sleeping in the car. A ride on 4 wheels is also equally enjoyable, its just that I am still young for that kind of comfort. <b>To remind once again, I am 31 now.</b></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr">
On my 31st birthday, I wanted to buy myself a bicycle. Well, go on, laugh away on me. But I was serious. And still pondering on the idea. The only thing I am worried about is the crazy drivers of the city roads. But other than that, I think I should just go and buy one right now. Why am I not doing it then? Frankly, I have my doubts. <b>To</b><b> </b><b>remind</b><b> </b><b>you</b><b> </b><b>again</b><b>, </b><b>I</b><b> </b><b>am</b><b> 31, </b><b>but</b><b> </b><b>I</b><b> </b><b>still</b><b> </b><b>feel</b><b> </b><b>young</b><b> </b><b>like</b><b> </b><b>a</b><b> 25</b>. OK, that was really funny. <b>Go</b><b> </b><b>on</b><b>, </b><b>have</b><b> </b><b>a</b><b> </b><b>LOL</b><b> </b><b>moment</b><b>.</b> But I have a few examples to refer to. There were at least 2 of my friends who had bought bicycles in their early twenties. They were serious for about a month, but they gave up soon enough. So I am not sure if I would be using that motor less vehicle for long. But, nevertheless, I think I will take the risk. <b>A</b><b> </b><b>part</b><b> </b><b>of</b><b> </b><b>the</b><b> </b><b>package</b><b> </b><b>again</b><b>?</b></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr">
And now that I have blogged about this, Google will show me ads about buying a new bicycle and also buyers for my old bike. Are there any bicycles with <b>odometers</b>? I would really want to know how many kilometers I do in the first month. A <b>speedometer</b> is an added bonus. <b>A</b><b> </b><b>phone</b><b> charger</b> looks like an indispensable add-on. And the most important of all, a good and secured locking system. At some point of time in the near future, if I still find myself into this bicycling stuff, I might be interested in buying a<b> Go Pro</b> for my trips, and a few safety gears for those rough terrain tracks. Looks like I need to do some research on all this.</div>
<br />
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<p dir="ltr">I hate it when I get cold. It doesn't let me sleep easily. So, I am trying to induce sleep into me by writing something stupid. We all know we are very sleepy when we do some boring task. Like watching TV. I wonder how people get glued to their TV sets for prolonged number of hours. One example would be my wife.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I hate people when they don't question, I blindly do or believe things as they are told. But I hate it more when someone asks me a stupid question. Well, not the kind of a stupid stupid question, but like one that the stupidest stupid in this whole universe would never ask. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I look at the person for a full half-minute, and ask myself, "Does he really have such a brain?". And then smile. And then say, "Should I really answer that?"</p>
<p dir="ltr">That's of course rude. But I really can't help it however hard I try. I have tried many times, to stop me from staring, smiling and changing my answers. But its like a reflex action that my body has acquired forever now. </p>
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<b>Bhutan</b>, is better known as the <b>Country of Happiness</b>. I never knew this fact before, but Bhutan is the 8th Happiest country in the world, and the most happiest country in Asia. And we could see it there, everywhere. All smiles, everyone seemed happy, even the driver of our bus after he was caught speeding. He happily gave away the fine of Nu 1750 (equivalent to INR 1750).<br />
<br />
The trip was a kind of a tiny summer vacation for us, since it had been raining fire all over India those days (Last week of May). Once we boarded the flight to Paro (the international airport of Bhutan) from Kolkata, we never saw sweat for the next 5 days. Oh, Indians and Bhutanese don't need VISA to travel across the borders. Although they check your passports since the immigration authorities would still keep track of your movement, but Bhutan has very friendly relations with India. So much so, almost everyone understand and speaks Hindi quite fluently. The Paro airport is very different from all the other airports I have seen. Although it's a small one, there was something special about it. A slight drizzle welcomed us as we stepped out of the aircraft. And this is the first photo we clicked.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifgJSkuJ2xEc5MsNDUCLWweow83kS7dfWBh6c1Ju_fLIruyevm7v77SPLsVtV2ZzLgS-GuW54R8At97ftOUOR_rfxrMBF-yDYjYKd0ucM1Q09vFNl-KcO__W0mfBJ0uLx5qfVlKssCaY0/s1600/Airport+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifgJSkuJ2xEc5MsNDUCLWweow83kS7dfWBh6c1Ju_fLIruyevm7v77SPLsVtV2ZzLgS-GuW54R8At97ftOUOR_rfxrMBF-yDYjYKd0ucM1Q09vFNl-KcO__W0mfBJ0uLx5qfVlKssCaY0/s1600/Airport+1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paro International Airport, Bhutan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And there was a big billboard with a couple's photo. I tried to figure out what were they advertising, until a few days later, I came to know that the picture was of the King and the Queen of Bhutan.<br />
<br />
We then boarded our tour bus, and set off for our hotel in <b>Thimpu, the capital city of Bhutan</b>, which was our base station for the next 3 days.<br />
<br />
The main cities of Bhutan are Thimpu, Punakha and Paro. Punakha was Bhutan's old capital till 1955. Bhutan is very sparsely populated, and the approximate population of the country is about 7.5 lakhs. The eastern part of the country is where most of the development has happened.<br />
<br />
Bhutan's currency is <b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ngultrum">ngultrum</a> </b>which is fixed to the value of Indian rupee. So, you would not need to carry any local currency. The INR notes are accepted everywhere, and they have exactly the same value.<br />
<br />
In a span of few days, we visited dozens of places. Mostly cultural and religious sites, since the ethnic culture has remained intact and untouched by the westerners because of it's isolation from the rest of the world till 1960s. Rightly so, Bhutan has been named as the The Last Shangri-La.<br />
<br />
Travelling to a new country, and not trying out their traditional dress!!! That's just not possible, especially when your wife is so adamant to getting clicked in the foreign attire. There you go. The dress for the men is called <b>"<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gho">gho</a>" </b>and for women, it's called <b>"<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kira_(dress)">kira</a>"</b>.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1iSdZG_10swbDg0WkWRYe6qSYwFQP5oy905q3ndtAyY2ka72eGilmPk6wy3vVKjzPh6MTs5eSZeHHmHe550PIUwCMdTI5EOtyH78AZgEThIjlmuaPiJraXIMKpmodEapXAhobCQgsgv8/s1600/Dressed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1iSdZG_10swbDg0WkWRYe6qSYwFQP5oy905q3ndtAyY2ka72eGilmPk6wy3vVKjzPh6MTs5eSZeHHmHe550PIUwCMdTI5EOtyH78AZgEThIjlmuaPiJraXIMKpmodEapXAhobCQgsgv8/s1600/Dressed.jpg" height="293" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's not a real bull.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We visited a lot of Dzongs (Fortresses, now converted to administrative buildings), and Monasteries, and other places of importance.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2diaUo01jGH-pMnmBUQ1eQcUmpT8cb6vsscATaljXWdFbg12XcczCE94Ei1WdTxf0C9lYshoA2VMuo_8w78HaeInskkVnRA70vTgr73f0hAhgtjH6N_BcYJ39LsbqgaUA6rPHe3Sz3zM/s1600/Buddha+Statue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2diaUo01jGH-pMnmBUQ1eQcUmpT8cb6vsscATaljXWdFbg12XcczCE94Ei1WdTxf0C9lYshoA2VMuo_8w78HaeInskkVnRA70vTgr73f0hAhgtjH6N_BcYJ39LsbqgaUA6rPHe3Sz3zM/s1600/Buddha+Statue.jpg" height="400" width="296" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buddha_Dordenma_statue">Buddha Doderma Statue, Thimpu</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnoNCsjR1N837iOqhyphenhyphene3ErBrfSrh4Mwl8ZB0TPC77nMEUl5cyvaTcJLmUJSGcSOY1FdKev-dwNGzA_mGcWRpyu_xuvygEyjup1BdSch4wPFDcF4HWeMKJ4kA4ulrpgoPZOTarpujYexs/s1600/Paro+Airport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnoNCsjR1N837iOqhyphenhyphene3ErBrfSrh4Mwl8ZB0TPC77nMEUl5cyvaTcJLmUJSGcSOY1FdKev-dwNGzA_mGcWRpyu_xuvygEyjup1BdSch4wPFDcF4HWeMKJ4kA4ulrpgoPZOTarpujYexs/s1600/Paro+Airport.jpg" height="296" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paro international Airport, Bhutan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnikRwIgivUvT1tMZabyAdqIIl-P-njhKMKbhPCxTQVlnT_TzpMknqVEipp0ppU40jUbYL2MJKnbKdM0J_7HmQ4uqGTNjpNFO-cMwHsceQ-KqeZTyc5fgYcaWA97PZv0df0A3VJShmStg/s1600/Random.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnikRwIgivUvT1tMZabyAdqIIl-P-njhKMKbhPCxTQVlnT_TzpMknqVEipp0ppU40jUbYL2MJKnbKdM0J_7HmQ4uqGTNjpNFO-cMwHsceQ-KqeZTyc5fgYcaWA97PZv0df0A3VJShmStg/s1600/Random.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A random click from the streets</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
I excelled at their National Sports. My second arrow hit the bull's eye. The wife did terribly bad, and almost missed a live human. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOAaUfcDQck9Nf9vAc5_G1vi6FtnDFMAvsfJmq0ydTNMw2rkb2Rbc6SsdFHEcZTfE1hCqcEhWA102wOoa2wN9kNQLNoO5zW1IAZu5kwXohghPlT256H1dWng23eYbXGLIogxwPIZFO0EE/s1600/IMG_20140601_173312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOAaUfcDQck9Nf9vAc5_G1vi6FtnDFMAvsfJmq0ydTNMw2rkb2Rbc6SsdFHEcZTfE1hCqcEhWA102wOoa2wN9kNQLNoO5zW1IAZu5kwXohghPlT256H1dWng23eYbXGLIogxwPIZFO0EE/s1600/IMG_20140601_173312.jpg" height="400" width="293" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Archery</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
If you are interested in looking at more photos, we have shared an <a href="https://plus.google.com/photos/112390559537371694099/albums/6027248731740967393">album with a few hundreds photos</a>. Do check them out. Some of them are really beautiful.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When the 5 days were over, and we were as happy as all the people in Bhutan, we had to sadly depart from Paro. As soon as we landed in Kolkata, we were already thinking about the rising temperatures, office, traffic and such things. That was a well deserved break from our busy life, but a very short one. I hope there would be many more stories and trips soon.</div>
</div>
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<div dir="ltr">
The temperatures are rising worldwide. And it will continue to rise. As much as I hate it, I have started to like sweating. Most of the times I can't do anything to beat the heat. But, my sweat can. Its like our own body making our personal clouds and eventually precipitating them on itself. Quite a novel idea, isn't it?<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Sweat is only one part though. If you are fortunate enough to sweat, that is, you are fortunate enough to be in a humid city like Kolkata, Bhubaneswar, Chennai etc, you already have your own personal body temperature controller. But then, not everyone can be lucky, can they? I have had the opportunity to experience both the extremes, and so I am qualified enough to write and preach about my experiences. As you must have already realized, that I have lived through those almost-fatal summers in all kinds of cities.<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
OK. Coming to my tips...</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
1. <b><i>Sleep</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>a</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>lot</i></b><b><i>.</i></b> Sleep is the number 1 enemy of the heat. But practicing this takes a lot of willpower and determination. Its definitely not a child's play. You have to be a ninja-sleeper to beat the heat. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
2. <b><i>Run</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>and</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>walk</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>a</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>lot</i></b><b><i>.</i></b> This doesn't really fight the heat directly, but it tricks your brain and body to produce the required nano-clouds that leave behind their cooling effect.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
3. <i><b>Lots of ice-creams.</b></i> In places where the sun dries up your sweat too quickly for your body to be able to sweat, you need alternate manmade techniques to battle the heat. The best and the quickest way is to eat lots and lots of ice-creams. It might take a tad longer but you can now make your body sweat internally, and thus bring on the cooling effect.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
4. <b><i>T</i></b><b><i><b><i>ake</i></b></i></b><b><i><b><i> </i></b></i></b><b><i><b><i>bath</i></b></i></b><b><i><b><i> 4 </i></b></i></b><b><i><b><i>times</i></b></i></b><b><i><b><i> </i></b></i></b><b><i><b><i>a</i></b></i></b><b><i><b><i> </i></b></i></b><b><i><b><i>day</i></b></i></b><b><i><b><i>.</i></b></i></b> That would not only cool you down, but also remove the sweaty layer on your skin, making it ready again for the next few hours.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
5. <b><i>Go</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>for</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>long</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>rides</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>alone</i></b><b><i>.</i></b> You will not feel the extra heat from your bosses, wives and your irritating friends. Use up all your sick leaves to run away from office. Use imaginative excuses to run away from home/wife. Hit the road, turn on the AC, turn up the volume, and race right through the heat.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
All of these have been tried and tested by me. And I have substantial proof of the results. If you try any of these, do come back and let me know how you did.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Chill throughout the summers, <b>Winter</b><b> </b><b>is</b><b> </b><b>coming</b><b>...</b></div>
<br />
<a href="https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.beanie.blog"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Posted via Blogaway</span></a></div>
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<div dir="ltr">
The IPL 7 finals. Apart from the two teams, the third thing to follow on TV today is <b>Mr. Navjot Singh Sidhu's</b> hindi commentary.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
1. Preity Zinta ki jhappi or Shahrukh Khan ki pappi.</div>
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2. Bhavnaheen aadmi thande lava ki tarah hota hai.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<i> Grrr</i><i>.. </i><i>The</i><i> </i><i>wife</i><i> </i><i>changed</i><i> </i><i>the</i><i> </i><i>channel</i><i>.</i></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div dir="ltr">
3. Baal ki khaal utaar dete hain ye slow motion replays.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
4. Dhaansoo chakka</div>
<div dir="ltr">
5. Taabartod cricket khelni padegi</div>
<div dir="ltr">
6. Taamba hara, neela, peela ho sakta hai par sona apna rang badal nahi sakta.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
7. Jhujhadoopan dikhate hue (what's that!!!)</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<i>"</i><i>Didn't</i><i> </i><i>know</i><i> </i><i>he</i><i> </i><i>is</i><i> </i><i>an</i><i> </i><i>astrologer</i><i> </i><i>too</i><i>."</i></div>
<div dir="ltr">
8. Guggu bolega khatre ka</div>
<div dir="ltr">
9. Aur pahunch gayi gaadi ambala cantt.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
10. Bhookanph aagaya hai ground me.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
11. IPL re IPL, tera rang kaisa?</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
And now he takes a break. Thanks. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
KKR is going down. :(</div>
<br />
<a href="https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.beanie.blog"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Posted via Blogaway</span></a></div>
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<div dir="ltr">
For the very first time, I would be travelling abroad in a few minutes. As happy as I am with the above fact, for this trip I have been forced to be away from my laptop and the internet world. I don't consider smartphone at par with a full-keyboard laptop. But the important reason of me getting away with that: The wife is an equally addict when it comes to our phones.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
So be it... I will prove it beyond doubt to all who think I can't breathe without my laptop, once and for all, to be dead wrong.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Now, waiting at the Kolkata airport. This is my first time here, although I have been to Kolkata quite a few times before. Not very crowded, probably because its a weekday?</div>
<br />
<a href="https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.beanie.blog"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Posted via Blogaway</span></a></div>
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<p dir="ltr">I want some silence. No sounds at all. For a few minutes at least!!!</p>
<p dir="ltr">When I concentrate hard enough on something, even a mosquito flying by my ears irritate me. And that's exactly the time when someone is at the door hitting the bell frantically. And everybody else in the house is busy. And then the phone starts yelling.</p>
<p dir="ltr">This is a conspiracy. And it happens all the tune with me. <b><i><u>Grrrrr</u></i></b><b><i><u>...</u></i></b><br></p>
<p dir="ltr">Silence. I need absolute silence. Not even the sound of my own breathing, for a few hours at-least....</p>
<br/><a href="https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.beanie.blog"><font size="2">Posted via Blogaway</font></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hCrvAiggUDc7ikEgBucv1DgTKOJCPYG7EXWA9TFZhyppmZ0zX-qkO1V6V_I3sFl6khypCwfZeyYsOAcsHPqMc7zMMKwLWCZGLoLYOb7eqXs4IjT5-zdHr5YvgnUbKRof8k3RjwA8gIY/s1600/1398376527_tea.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hCrvAiggUDc7ikEgBucv1DgTKOJCPYG7EXWA9TFZhyppmZ0zX-qkO1V6V_I3sFl6khypCwfZeyYsOAcsHPqMc7zMMKwLWCZGLoLYOb7eqXs4IjT5-zdHr5YvgnUbKRof8k3RjwA8gIY/s1600/1398376527_tea.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image Courtesy: <a href="http://icons8.com/">http://icons8.com/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I</span> am not a tea-addict. Nor a biscuit addict. But, the combination is a killer one. Of-course, not just any other tea, it's the ginger tea that makes the combination stand-out. <b>And the biscuit?</b> Ummm.. Ok, read till the end to discover the mystery about the biscuits.<br />
<br />
As a school going boy, I secretly enjoyed the smell of tea when my Mom used to prepare tea for my Granny. At that time, Granny was the only person in our whole house of 8, who was an avid tea drinker. My Mom occasionally used to have a cup, perhaps once in a week or so. But I was given a tumbler of smelly and yucky milk with <b>Bournvita</b>, filled to the brim. I just hated that. My sister too. And we made a habit of leaving behind few mili-litres of milk, without fail. That was our small little mutiny against the whole system. Our small non-cooperation movement. And every day, Mom used to hurl a few angry words. But, they never hit us. Even if they would have, we never had the courage of getting the smelly tumbler anywhere near us for a second time in a day.<br />
<br />
Mom had tried everything under the sun. Horlicks, Bournvita, Complan, Boost etc. Even the purest form wouldn't go down our throats. Quite often, my sister would have tears in her eyes when it was time. At times, we even tried to fake vomiting.<br />
<br />
And any requests for a cup of tea, was immediately denied. That's weird, Mom thought and said, "How on earth can you like Tea and not Milk!!! Tea is for elders, here, take this glass of milk, finish it off in a jiffy, and get back to studying."<br />
<br />
Whenever I had a chance, I had my cups of tea. Especially, when we were visiting our relatives, and it wasn't a sin for children to drink tea in that territory, and was out of Mom's jurisdiction. Well, flavoured tea wasn't a fad those days.<br />
<br />
Anyway, those days are gone.<br />
<br />
<b>Present Day:</b><br />
I don't have the same hatred. My love for tea has actually diminished. And among all kinds of flavours, I love "<b>Ginger Tea</b>" the most. Be it the winters, or the summers, or the rains, 1 cup of Ginger Tea and a few pieces of my favourite biscuit can lift my mood to cloud nine. Ummm.. That's a bit of exaggeration I would say, but who cares, I am high already. <b>I just had a cup of Ginger tea and 6 biscuits.</b><br />
<br />
I don't exactly remember since when I had this addiction. May be during college with friends, when we had lots of time to spare for tea sessions. What lovely, bygone days!!! But, these days, my wife makes lovely ginger tea. Although I make it a little better. <b>And the biscuits...?</b><br />
<br />
The mystery hasn't unveiled yet!!! Don't worry, it's not time yet.<br />
<br />
Here goes the mystery about the biscuits. The people that make the biscuits, that I love the most, are from a company called <b>"Britannia"</b>, and it's sold under the brand name of <b>"Milk Bikis"</b>.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="300" mozallowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" src="http://embed.ted.com/talks/lang/en/joshua_foer_feats_of_memory_anyone_can_do.html" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="540"></iframe>
</div>
<div>
Awesome video on memory. I wish I could remember like the old days. Those old WWF cards and all the wrestlers' stats. Cricket stats of all my favorite players. All the telephone numbers, my whole weeks schedule for school, or even where I kept my red coloured pencil. Who borrowed my comics, and how much money I have loaned to my friends. As the speaker rightly mentions, we have been off-loading this amazing power of our brains to our computers, mobile phones and the internet.<br />
<br />
My contacts are always synced between my devices. I don't even remember my passwords to all the websites. The browser remembers them, and syncs across all the computers. If at all, my browser somehow forgets one of the them, I have to do a "Password Reset" or even a "Forgot Username" if I don't even remember my login name.<br />
<br />
It's already well known that practice improves our memory. But, now a days, we don't really practice much, and at times, not at all. We rely on technology so much, that in a way, we have been using less and less of our brains. I used to remember multiplication tables, and just yesterday, it was very hard for me to remember what <b>7x9 equals to</b>!!!<br />
<br />
That's really sad. A few years from now, among all of us, there would only be a few who would have advanced brains if we keep evolving machines and become more and more dependent on them. Those few, would not be those who are or were really gifted. Instead, a majority of us would be so much dependent on machines, we would soon forget about the wonders we can actually do with their memory.<br />
<br />
To be frank, my memory is quite good as compared to some people I know (please don't ask to name them), but this ability of mine has certainly been on the downward trend. I often grab a calculator to do simple mathematical problems. I have almost forgotten birthdays of all my close ones(baring a few such as sister, wife, etc.), since I get reminders just in time.<br />
<br />
But, I don't want to go and win some World Memory Championship. I just want to have my old, helpful and amazing memory of mine. Actually, it's not that hard. Well, the guy in the video says so. I will give it a try.</div>
</div>
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I don't consider myself lazy, but I have my days when I just want to do nothing. And when something comes up that has to be attended urgently, or it's forced upon me, you should see my mood, and my tantrums.<br />
<br />
I almost cry, but being a man, that's not an option, I bleed from within. My blood temperature rises, and I have palpitations. But then, depending on the impending task, I either drag myself up from the sofa or just ignore the calls of the moment.<br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>Why can't I have my rest day? Without any interferences!!! Why? Why? Why?</i></b><br />
<br />
When I am just about to crack a difficult problem, the disturbances come rolling in. Just when I am trying to concentrate, a big bang goes off somewhere. Just when I enter into deep sleep, some unknown number wants to contact me. (Now I have set up Quite Hours on my phone though, <i>Thanks Cyanogen</i>). Just when I want to watch my favourite show on the TV, the electricity department takes a break. And it goes on and on.<br />
<br />
<b>Why am I complaining?</b> Am I the only one that goes through all this? Obviously not. But, then, some days, you really get pissed. Not that I am really that right now.<br />
<br />
Anyway, there's still hope for me I think. <b><i>The next Sunday is only 7 days away from now.</i></b> And tomorrow is a holiday for me (Yay!!!! My wife is working tomorrow :D :D). I hope I have the next Sunday just as I would like it; My Laziest Day.</div>
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I was supposed to write every week. I think I have missed one post. Or may be two. At times when time itself is so precious, we shouldn't ponder over past things. I am not going back and checking how many actually I have missed. But not anymore :) until I take a break again.<br />
<br />
The first rains of the year, was quite a drizzle. I cannot express how much I love the rains. And the first rains are always special. And I make sure to get drenched at the first chance I have, and I did that today too. Well, not a deliberate attempt to get wet, but it was enough to set my mood for the weekend.<br />
<br />
The week has gone by, and there's been so much noise on the television channels, Facebook, Twitter, and the likes. Politics is in the air. This time around, it's going t be really interesting. <b>Cricket,</b> <b>pre-Sachin Retirement</b>, was the first craze of us Indians, and now, the game of <b>Politics</b> has been getting the highest TRPs all across the country. The only difference is, Cricket was famous for <b>Sachin Tendulkar</b> for his brilliance, while Politics is, at-least for some, is famous for <b>Rahul Gandhi</b>, again, for his, unmatched presence of mind, public speaking and of-course his thesis on <b>Rocket Science</b>.<br />
<br />
So, I had been trying all these days to clock <b>30 minutes for a 5 km walk + run</b>. Took me close to an year to get here. Last week, I achieved this little feat, declared this on Facebook. Not much likes, or comments, or bravos, and I wasn't expecting any. But, one comment stood out among all of them.<br />
<br />
<b>He goes: "Dude, which bike!!!"</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><i><span style="color: #660000;">I definitely, hadn't expected this.</span></i></b><br />
<br />
Go March Go. Go away, Let the new financial year begin, let the elections establish the new government, and let the story continue. Next, my target is running 6 kms within 30 minutes. Obviously, it's not rocket science. <b><i><span style="color: #0b5394;">RUN BEANIE RUN...</span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>T</b></span>hat day, was as normal as any other day, or so I thought. Of-course I have heard about mood swings, and have experienced them myself, and have tolerated others'. But wives, are a different human species all-together. And I have learnt that after <b>3 months into my first marriage</b>. Although, I had been warned about them before, the first hand experience always teaches you a lesson for life.<br />
<br />
We were just having a casual talk. And slowly, the track was shifting towards scathing personal comments. Which, most of the time, I didn't mind. This wasn't that bad, but I took offence, and thought it would be funny to reply back and make an equally scathing <b>PERSONAL</b> comment.<br />
<br />
We were in the lift, going back home after a little shopping.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><b>She:</b> You should exercise more.</span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><b>Me:</b> I already do that. 5 days a week, and that's sufficient I think.</span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><b>She:</b> You are becoming an "Aloo (Potato)".</span><br />
<br />
<i>That was it. That was a poke at the wrong place and time. I have good reflexes, and so without even thinking I blurted out.</i><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><b>Me:</b> You have become a ladies finger.</span><br />
<i>That's a nice comment with an atom bomb in disguise I thought.</i><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><b>She:</b> Haha, I know. I have been losing weight all these days, and have become slim now.</span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><b>Me:</b> <i>(With a grin and a triumpant smile)</i> Ummm.. Have you seen them in a shop? They are always broken from everywhere. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><b>She:</b> Grrrrr.... Wait...</span><br />
<i>She snatched the keys from my hand, opened the door and shut it on my face. And said:</i><br />
<br />
"Go away. I am not allowing you into the house anymore."<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><b>Me:</b> It's our house, don't you remember?</span><br />
<i>Trying all I could to pacify her.</i><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><b>She:</b> I gave the rent for this month. So, I have all the rights to throw you out.</span><br />
<br />
I thought, she would calm down in a few minutes, so I went out and walked a bit. I was not really sure if she was serious or just joking with me. I was in a state of confusion. So, I updated my facebook status.<br />
<br />
<b><i><span style="color: #20124d;">"Wife threw me out of the house. Wandering on the streets."</span></i></b><br />
<br />
I never thought, this post on facebook would be my most popular post of 2014 within just a few minutes.<br />
<br />
After a few rounds of the city, I came back and knocked at my own door, with a plan to somehow find a roof over my head. The temperature outside was 30 degrees, and I had no idea what was the inside temperature. But, at-least I wouldn't get a tan inside.<br />
<br />
Knocked 10 times. No response. The only response, I got from her, was on Facebook. And that was:<br />
<b><i><span style="color: #660000;">"You deserve it". </span></i></b><br />
<br />
And that comment of hers, beat the popularity of my post hands down.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I told her, <span style="color: #20124d;">"<b>I am thirsty</b>"</span>.<br />
<br />
The door finally opened, and I saw her hand pushing a water bottle through the small gap. I tried to catch her hand, but she dropped the bottle, and shut the door.<br />
<br />
I kept knocking, and knocking. The neighbors saw me walking back and forth in-front of my own house. They seemed confused. Thank God, I don't yet have them on my friends list on Facebook.<br />
<br />
After a few more minutes, she opened the door. I was alert, looking for a chance to run inside.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><b>She:</b> If you want to come in, make me feel special, praise me, and only then you get to enter the house.</span><br />
<br />
Arrrghhhh!!! Not again.....<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><b>Me:</b> You are my butter scotch, gulaab jamoon....</span><br />
<i>(All the sweet dishes that I could remember, although, the only thing I was thinking about was "Karela - Bitter Gourd")</i><br />
<br />
And then, Voila..... I was given a safe passage.</div>
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<p dir="ltr">There was once a guy who wanted to change the world. Change the world for good. Change everything which was bad, and make the whole wide world a much much happier planet.<br></p>
<p dir="ltr">He was really serious about it. He thought he was clever than all the other people, and only he can do this impossible and god-like task. He was full of hope and was determined. Nothing could make him lose hope in what he believed. Not even numerous failures. He would try and try again. Most of the times, he would fail, and be a little sad about it. Others would try to persuade him to give up what he was doing. They would try to reason with him and say "You alone can't change everything. God hasn't been able to fix this world, how can a human do it!!!". <br></p>
<p dir="ltr">And one day, he realized it. It just occurred to him out of nowhere. He realized, although his intentions were right, he had to do things differently. <br></p>
<p dir="ltr">People say, with age, comes wisdom. The myth about the wisdom tooth, is, a myth of course. And finally he had found his wisdom at the age of 30. </p>
<p dir="ltr"><i>"</i><i>Changing</i><i> </i><i>the</i><i> </i><i>whole</i><i> </i><i>world</i><i> </i><i>is</i><i> </i><i>no</i><i> </i><i>single</i><i> </i><i>man's</i><i> </i><i>task</i><i>. </i><i>Even</i><i> </i><i>God</i><i> </i><i>cannot</i><i> </i><i>do</i><i> </i><i>it</i><i> </i><i>even</i><i> </i><i>if</i><i> </i><i>he</i><i> </i><i>wanted</i><i> </i><i>to</i><i>. </i><i>He</i><i> </i><i>is</i><i> </i><i>wiser</i><i> </i><i>now</i><i>. </i><i>He</i><i> </i><i>is</i><i> </i><i>changing</i><i> </i><i>himself</i><i> </i><i>now</i><i>."</i></p>
<p dir="ltr">He was no better than everyone else. <br>
In a world where everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself, how could he have succeeded. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Its a weird world these days:</p>
<p dir="ltr"><b><i>People</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>are</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>taking</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>their</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>comedians</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>seriously</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>and</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>the</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>politicians</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>as</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>a</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>joke</i></b><b><i>. - </i></b><b><i>Will</i></b><b><i> </i></b><b><i>Rogers</i></b></p>
<p dir="ltr">More people follow Kapil Sharma than any of our politicians. In the times of Facebook and Twitter, memes and viral videos have become the quintessence of entertainment. That includes me as well. I enjoy them, <b>laugh</b><b> </b><b>out</b><b> </b><b>loud</b><b>(</b><b>LOL</b><b>)</b> I still litter the roads, and at the same time complain about the garbage. There was a guy yesterday who threw a bunch of banana peels from inside his car which landed on a pedestrians face. When I tried to peep into the car, I realized they were kids, 10 year olds I think.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I wish I had become wiser at 10. </p>
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