<?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-8175609183831618727</id><updated>2011-08-07T11:16:00.976-07:00</updated><category term='diet'/><category term='obese'/><category term='26/11'/><category term='Mumbai'/><category term='hindi movie'/><category term='thin'/><category term='terrororists'/><category term='plump'/><category term='bulimia'/><category term='techonology'/><category term='review'/><category term='bobbitized'/><category term='life'/><title type='text'>BABBLE</title><subtitle type='html'>"Meaningless confusion of words"</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Birdie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05773291160073473960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WgwvJ2rxhIA/STk-yDIdjEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hfackyjp23k/S220/BW+Bebo.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8175609183831618727.post-8270713332419843181</id><published>2009-11-26T10:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T10:57:25.006-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hindi movie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><title type='text'>Kurbaan - my take</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WgwvJ2rxhIA/Sw7Pirnt8TI/AAAAAAAAABo/flfKPIW8Low/s1600/kurbaan-wallpaper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 221px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WgwvJ2rxhIA/Sw7Pirnt8TI/AAAAAAAAABo/flfKPIW8Low/s320/kurbaan-wallpaper.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408488397250359602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Star cast: Saif Ali Khan, Kareena Kapoor, Vivek Oberoi and Om Puri&lt;br /&gt;Director: Rensil D’Silva&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie is woven around  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Avantika (Kareena Kapoor)&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ehsaan Khan (Saif)&lt;/span&gt; who fall in love and get married. They shift to New York as she has been called by her previous employer to join back. She then realizes her husband is part of a major terrorist group  and is planning a plot. She has to save the lives of  millions with a journalist &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Riyaaz ‘s (Vivek Oberoi)&lt;/span&gt; and what follows is the rest of the plot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shots and the screenplay are very crisp. This movie tries very hard to be like a no nonsense Hollywood film. It’s a very straight to the face story with a few corny lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet I found some interesting flaws:&lt;br /&gt;•    When &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ehsaan&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Avantika &lt;/span&gt;decide on their first coffee date, Saif mentions the time for the meet but not the place !!!! The next shot we see is both of them seated at CCD sipping on coffee!!!!!!!!  Oh yes, the brand placement is supposedly covered up very well…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;•    I thought the whole idea behind &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Avantika&lt;/span&gt; leaving her job in India was because she got a call from her previous University to teach. But once they go abroad not once in the entire movie do we see her going to work. Instead through out the movie we see her sipping on coffee, reading the newspaper, waiting for her husband to return from work. So what just happened to her teaching at the university?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;•    Towards the end when &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ehsaan&lt;/span&gt; tells &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Riyaaz&lt;/span&gt; that the women have the bombs in their bags how on planet earth does &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Riyaaz&lt;/span&gt; know where are the bombs going to explode? I specifically remember Om Puri saying he changed the plans and only he knew where the bombs were going to explode…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;•    Through out the movie &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Avantika&lt;/span&gt;'s nails are chipped. I mean either she cuts all her nails or just makes sure she puts nails to all those fingers!!!!! Its so ewww to see chipped nails on such a huge screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly I loved only the last scene when Kareena asks for Saif’s real name. I loved this scene the best. It was so beautiful. This one line had so many connotations.  A few of my friends said probably she was asking his real name to name the baby, whereas I counter this argument saying so many terrorists forget themselves, their loved ones, their lives in the act of fighting for what they think is right and wrong. They lead a life of discreetness and secrecy, deceit. They never ever let out their emotions or loose their self-control or even trust their loved ones. That one line said it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its funny but today filmmakers have forgotten to narrate a story without forgetting the basic elements. Silly mistakes like these spoil the whole mood and the setting of a story. They are more worried about the shots and the look of the story that stories have taken a back seat. This was a bold subject for a commercial movie, I agree to it. I only wish if it was narrated like a story and not in bits and pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8175609183831618727-8270713332419843181?l=babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/feeds/8270713332419843181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2009/11/kurbaan-my-take.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/8270713332419843181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/8270713332419843181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2009/11/kurbaan-my-take.html' title='Kurbaan - my take'/><author><name>Birdie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05773291160073473960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WgwvJ2rxhIA/STk-yDIdjEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hfackyjp23k/S220/BW+Bebo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WgwvJ2rxhIA/Sw7Pirnt8TI/AAAAAAAAABo/flfKPIW8Low/s72-c/kurbaan-wallpaper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8175609183831618727.post-3392784484575132530</id><published>2009-10-30T12:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T12:57:44.674-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bulimia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='plump'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obese'/><title type='text'>DAMN YOU!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;I do not understand why do people criticize so much about weight.  I am not talking about constructive criticism; I am talking about destructive criticism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They do not criticize about themselves but find perverse pleasure in criticizing others. Its not even gossip I am talking about but bitching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are people in my class who go making fun of others who are “over weight” or obese or even plump. Yes I am plump. And no I do not need you to poke me around and tell me “oooo the result of not exercising or too much love for food” Or suddenly look and say “birdie you have grown big”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean damn you. I know what I am. Have I ever looked at you and said “ dude you are so thin” or “girl I think you do not have a booty at all” no I do not… I shut up and deal with my problems. Honestly thin people stop dishing out advices.&lt;br /&gt;We do not need it from you. Mind your own damn business. Not that we have enough problems listening to our relatives and boy friends/girl friends and family giving advice on “how to reduce ”. Thanks but no thanks. When I want ill ask for your advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not understand this logic. When men put on weight they look “cute and cuddly” and when women do “they look fat”. What kind of a bias is this? Why cant women on the bulkier side look hot and stunning? Can’t women have voluptuous bodies and a curvy figure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly do not understand this logic and I find it even more irritating when these prejudices crop up in the minds of people. There are thousands of women who are either fat or too thin. They have so much of mental and social trauma to deal with everyday of their lives. It’s a daily battle for some to stay fit and also to fit in the correct dress size. There are thousands of women who diet and are bulimic because they want to be thin as a model that is featured on the cover page of some beauty magazine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all you women I ask you, stay confident and love your self. Love your body and be happy. If you are happy, people around you will be happy. It is difficult I understand but do not loose hope and resort to dieting and binge eating. It makes no sense at all. Find methods or ask for help to deal with being obese or too thin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For women who are plump if ever your boy friend starts to say, ”you look cute” and not “ you look HOT OR SEXY”. You are in trouble woman!!!!!! When they do not appreciate you for what you are, they are not worth a dime. Ask him to take a hike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8175609183831618727-3392784484575132530?l=babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/feeds/3392784484575132530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2009/10/damn-you.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/3392784484575132530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/3392784484575132530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2009/10/damn-you.html' title='DAMN YOU!!!'/><author><name>Birdie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05773291160073473960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WgwvJ2rxhIA/STk-yDIdjEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hfackyjp23k/S220/BW+Bebo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8175609183831618727.post-5568911577989320288</id><published>2009-01-25T04:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T04:56:04.362-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Haphazard mind</title><content type='html'>Its been a long time since i wrote something.&lt;br /&gt;I open my notebook and think ill finally start on something...&lt;br /&gt;but my thoughts keep wandering...wandering...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think of the sea and am yearning to listen to the sound of the sea... the sea birds singing and the breeze rushing on my face... i want to feel all of that.. i want to feel the sand under my feet slippery and yet so nice....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;again my thoughts wander.... i feel like as though m in the middle of the sea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;surrounded by water and nothing but water... worse i cannot find anything or anyone around me to hold on to... i am trying to swim but i dont know to swim... i am trying to breathe but i can feel the currents pulling me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am struggling for breath ...  i am trying to think.... think calm , breathe in and out, slowly but steady... but none of these thoughts are reassuring me... i feel lost...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am loosing it now.. i know it but i am a survivor .. i dont want to give in yet...i am stubborn... i want to fight till my last breath knowing full well that nothing rest's in mind hands anymore....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8175609183831618727-5568911577989320288?l=babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/feeds/5568911577989320288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2009/01/haphazard-mind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/5568911577989320288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/5568911577989320288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2009/01/haphazard-mind.html' title='Haphazard mind'/><author><name>Birdie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05773291160073473960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WgwvJ2rxhIA/STk-yDIdjEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hfackyjp23k/S220/BW+Bebo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8175609183831618727.post-8295844130755928464</id><published>2008-12-06T21:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:39:07.161-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='techonology'/><title type='text'>Hi - funda table top....</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine passed on this video to me and trust me its amazing!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really looking forward to find this in restaurants and honestly this would be quite a relief !!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LYiHNV8R1jc"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LYiHNV8R1jc&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8175609183831618727-8295844130755928464?l=babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/feeds/8295844130755928464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2008/12/hi-funda-table-top.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/8295844130755928464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/8295844130755928464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2008/12/hi-funda-table-top.html' title='Hi - funda table top....'/><author><name>Birdie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05773291160073473960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WgwvJ2rxhIA/STk-yDIdjEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hfackyjp23k/S220/BW+Bebo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8175609183831618727.post-3407859656414279725</id><published>2008-12-05T09:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:37:01.716-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bobbitized'/><title type='text'>Poor man got Bobbitized!!!!!</title><content type='html'>I was reading today's TOI (Times of India) when this article on the 3rd page, caught my attention :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;BOBBITISED MAN SPEAKS OUT &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;‘I did nothing to provoke her’ Bangalore: Mir Arshad Ali, who was recently in the news for being bobbitised by his lover, narrated his side of the story to the media on Thursday. He was admitted to hospital in a critical condition on November 29, after his lover Sayeeda Amina bobbitised him at her clinic. He is now out of danger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Ali says he had done nothing to provoke the lady to take such a step. A general physician, Ali specializes in pain therapy and is practicing in Mysore. He had known Amina for eight years, before he married another woman. He said he was in love with Amina and had pleaded with her for marriage for almost a year, but she had refused.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Later, Amina, who also knew Ali’s wife, convinced her that she needed Ali to come to her clinic for some medical help. Ali refused to disclose what medical help she required. On November 29, when he reached the clinic in Koramangala, she offered him juice. “It tasted a little different. The pack was ready with the straw. She did not let me open it myself. I became unconscious. When I regained consciousness, I pleaded with her to take me to a hospital,” he said. Amina got him admitted to hospital, but is absconding since then. “I have filed a case against her. It is not just the physical pain but also social stigma I have to live with now. My family is supporting me,” he added.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;According to him, it will take three more weeks for the wound to heal. However, chances of full recovery are bleak. The instrument used could have been a scalpel, he says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Source :Times Of India&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the whole country is still recovering from the aftermath of the Mumbai attack this is what we get to read. What has the world come to????? hello!!!! Bizarre .....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worse the reporter writing the article should at least know what he is writing an article on.... How do they expect the readers to know the meaning? or did they think we would actually remember an old case and the meaning associated with it? We actually don't carry our pocket dictionaries around you know....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know... I know some of you'll might still not understand the meaning of the term 'bobbitise'... even i was in the same situation and had to Wikipedia the word...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The word comes from the famous incident in 1993 when Lorena Bobbit cut off her husband John Wayne Bobbit 's penis with a kitchen-knife and threw the member out the window of her car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For more info on this story click on the link below....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bobbitise"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bobbitise&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8175609183831618727-3407859656414279725?l=babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/feeds/3407859656414279725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2008/12/poor-man-got-bobbitized.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/3407859656414279725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/3407859656414279725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2008/12/poor-man-got-bobbitized.html' title='Poor man got Bobbitized!!!!!'/><author><name>Birdie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05773291160073473960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WgwvJ2rxhIA/STk-yDIdjEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hfackyjp23k/S220/BW+Bebo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8175609183831618727.post-5631899293192164738</id><published>2008-12-03T11:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T09:15:01.038-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='terrororists'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mumbai'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='26/11'/><title type='text'>Frozen Time</title><content type='html'>I was wondering all these days what to blog.... what to blog about???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends kept asking me " Birdie why is your blog stagnant?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly speaking I just dint know what to blog about? There was nothing was worth while or even silly to be mentioned ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But something happened on the the 26/11 in Mumbai in my country... and I just couldn't stand it any longer.... I had to pen down my thoughts finally.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just returned to my city and all this while kept myself glued either to the tube or to the newspapers for the current updates post this trauma....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These was a massacre .... ruthless murdering of innocent lives .... by terrorists in Mumbai.... I kept listening to the news and could imagine the torture these people had gone through in the hands of those few men.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What they must have felt? What were their thoughts when the gun men entered the building and started to terrorize them? How they must have felt to be cut off from their loved ones ? From the world for that particular time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time must have frozen...stretched into hours and for some people into days.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart cries out to those families who have lost their loved ones.&lt;br /&gt;My heart cries out to all those martyr's ....who laid down their lives to save the rest of them and us... I SALUTE you all!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart goes out to you all.. I hope and pray wounds will heal but the scars will always remain never ever to be forgotten..... November November....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For info about the Mumbai attacks click the link below...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2008/11/mumbai_under_attack.html"&gt;http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2008/11/mumbai_under_attack.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8175609183831618727-5631899293192164738?l=babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/feeds/5631899293192164738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2008/12/frozen-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/5631899293192164738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/5631899293192164738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2008/12/frozen-time.html' title='Frozen Time'/><author><name>Birdie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05773291160073473960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WgwvJ2rxhIA/STk-yDIdjEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hfackyjp23k/S220/BW+Bebo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8175609183831618727.post-2012655253628458477</id><published>2008-11-02T16:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:30:28.228-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Rough times</title><content type='html'>I just thought of scribbling something out here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont know but right now everything is so messed up in my life. Nothing seems to be going right. The more I try to get things straightened it just gets worse day by day. It’s like holding sand tight in my fists only to realize it is slipping away. That’s how I feel my life is, slipping away from my hands. I don’t know what to do, whom to tell, how to tell, where to begin or where to end? Should i? Would everything just turn out to be alright?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life feels like as though the waves are lashing on the rocks and settling on the sea. Life has its own course. It takes us through difficult times and then shows us the wonderful times. After every difficult moment in life there is a happy moment. Isn’t it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then why does it seem that in our difficult times it is very easy to loose all hope on life, on oneself, on friends and loved ones?  They say difficult times are to pass and good times are there to stay forever… Why is that during our difficult times it seems as though the whole world has turned against us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I only wish ….. I so wish……..life takes its normal course with lesser problems and more of happiness and joy. I wish the clouds would part away and pour sunshine around….. I wish……. oh I only wish…..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8175609183831618727-2012655253628458477?l=babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/feeds/2012655253628458477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2008/11/rough-times.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/2012655253628458477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/2012655253628458477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2008/11/rough-times.html' title='Rough times'/><author><name>Birdie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05773291160073473960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WgwvJ2rxhIA/STk-yDIdjEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hfackyjp23k/S220/BW+Bebo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8175609183831618727.post-4676633915307889749</id><published>2008-10-09T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T23:28:04.762-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If I had to sit here and think about life and its beauty then I guess there is a lot to talk about. But have you ever thought about writing down the most difficult moments in life. I guess it’s a funny way we just don’t want to keep unwanted memories.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Hurt feels like a distant memory. But the pain is still there. It can never be removed. It is a gut-wrenching pain, a heart ache. Sometimes when I go back to the depths of my soul and remember the smallest details about life. I know its still there. If i could re-trace those paths and correct my wrongs, then maybe I would not land in my present situation that I am. The reality is my life looks so bleak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Dreams are a part of us. We dream about life about our loved ones, about anything for that matter. They make us feel better about life but they never come true. I guess dreams are an escape of the realities of life. I dream so much about my loved ones but the moment I wake up I don’t remember it. I usually wish my dreams were my reality. How wonderful would that be? Then I would not feel betrayed, hurt, shattered, broken promises.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I am literally feeling empty and drained. It’s like all my happiness is sucked out of me like a sponge. I feel like a caged animal. I want to be set free from all this. Break the shackles and run away to a place unknown.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8175609183831618727-4676633915307889749?l=babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/feeds/4676633915307889749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2008/10/life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/4676633915307889749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8175609183831618727/posts/default/4676633915307889749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://babblesofbirdie.blogspot.com/2008/10/life.html' title='Life'/><author><name>Birdie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05773291160073473960</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WgwvJ2rxhIA/STk-yDIdjEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hfackyjp23k/S220/BW+Bebo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
