<?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-37241470</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:06:50.550-07:00</updated><category term='Another Boulevard....'/><title type='text'>Dimensions-Colours-Lives-Moments-U-Me-Us</title><subtitle type='html'>its my life and i am makin it public, stay away papparazzi et al</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The Prabhdeep</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08184280902592023020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37241470.post-8120611201341515913</id><published>2008-01-09T15:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T03:50:55.297-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Fluid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HCmnJJeQq4U/R4Vh5VAzZ-I/AAAAAAAAAC4/wVXwoFvZ2K8/s1600-h/time_by_Vive_Le_Rock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153632986116351970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HCmnJJeQq4U/R4Vh5VAzZ-I/AAAAAAAAAC4/wVXwoFvZ2K8/s320/time_by_Vive_Le_Rock.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Written in 5 min, unedited version.. these are thoughts, not poetry, but maybe thoughts are the best poems.. I still have an outsiders view to this abstract coz it really was an extempore, jus came frm nowhere - coz i always felt I was musically challngd, but this is diffrnt - it feels more like music, symphony.. crescendo.. it progresses from acoustic to deep base.. and then the encore is trademark me, thats the only prabhdeep I found in this creation.. the soft end, the sacrifice, pain and tragedy.. someone asked me, why do I only write about failed love.. I didn't answer her, and I am not answerin it here too.. coz as of now, it all still makes sense.. comments as always../&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Time asked,&lt;br /&gt;it will stop for me.&lt;br /&gt;I just had to choose,&lt;br /&gt;a moment in eternity..&lt;br /&gt;I chose the time,&lt;br /&gt;when just after you cried,&lt;br /&gt;with tears still in your eyes,&lt;br /&gt;you looked into mine,&lt;br /&gt;smiled and said,&lt;br /&gt;you love me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the time paused,&lt;br /&gt;you waited for my answer.&lt;br /&gt;Bells tolled, winds blew..&lt;br /&gt;And I knew..&lt;br /&gt;this moment wont last.&lt;br /&gt;And I waited for that tear to fall...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;didnt you get it love,&lt;br /&gt;I waited for that tear to go away,&lt;br /&gt;I waited for your forever smile,&lt;br /&gt;I waited for you eyes to shine,&lt;br /&gt;didnt you get it love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It remains,&lt;br /&gt;that water,&lt;br /&gt;in my sight..&lt;br /&gt;But you gone,&lt;br /&gt;its night..&lt;br /&gt;my sunshine..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;didnt you get it love,&lt;br /&gt;I lived for you..&lt;br /&gt;I cried for you..&lt;br /&gt;I died for you..&lt;br /&gt;didnt you get it love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;time asked me,&lt;br /&gt;what i want.&lt;br /&gt;I asked it to stop again&lt;br /&gt;didnt agree,&lt;br /&gt;said, 'somethings missing'..&lt;br /&gt;'there is you'&lt;br /&gt;'there is love'&lt;br /&gt;'where is -'the' beloved'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dont you get it love&lt;br /&gt;Its you, Its you..&lt;br /&gt;All time asks for..&lt;br /&gt;to stop, erase memories..&lt;br /&gt;to fulfill our love!&lt;br /&gt;dont you get it love..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;take the cue, let time play..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;play the game of time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;reverse the flow, go back there ..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;love, when you were mine..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37241470-8120611201341515913?l=theprabhdeep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/feeds/8120611201341515913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37241470&amp;postID=8120611201341515913' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/8120611201341515913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/8120611201341515913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/2008/01/fluid-written-in-5-min-unedited-version.html' title=''/><author><name>The Prabhdeep</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08184280902592023020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_HCmnJJeQq4U/R4Vh5VAzZ-I/AAAAAAAAAC4/wVXwoFvZ2K8/s72-c/time_by_Vive_Le_Rock.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37241470.post-866158759990317582</id><published>2007-07-26T02:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T02:29:35.319-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ButterFLy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before every post I put up, I usually let Manish et al go through it and give their honest comments. We discussed this poem for more than an hour and I felt a need for putting this introduction up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poems are usually not as straightforward as they seem, they don't impact you that much in the first read, but once they get old and register themselves in our minds they slowly come apart and reveal their true self. similar is this poem in nature, cocoon doesn't essentially mean anything related to a butterfly but metaphorically it means a protective cover. Is it her happiness or you with whom the girl is in love with. If she says she loves you, then is it you as a person she really loves or is it the happiness, the secure feeling or just your elusiveness that are making her endorphins run wild?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If she loves you for you, which is only a distinct possibility, she loves the source. But if she loves you for what you give her, then she doesn't love you but loves the product of you! Difficult to comprehend but vast in probability. If the girls in for money, for thrills, for the way you hold her, or the way you say I love you to her, its fine but it pollutes the 4 letter word( not fu**, jivesh, same thinking still haha) . Love is unconditional, if you had money but now no longer have the riches, if you aren't as confident as before, should it make a difference? Theoretically no, practically its happening everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And trend says, say I love You, take her out and since she has blinded herself with something that she finds irresistable in you(thing!?), you are allowed to do anything - after all you are in love. Who's to blame? The guys who give the girls what they want, or the girls who demand it? But then why are the guys always lamented and punished? "He used me!" "I hate him but I just can't stop myself when I am with him!" Most of us have grown up with one or another girl-friend asking us for advice on such 'touchy' issues. Who suffers? Not the guys, girls don't really, but its the very foundation of mutual love. Cocoon here means money, trust, happiness, protection, security....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange thoughts that go behind writing a poem. Thats why I have made a habit of writing once a month. Do comment Guys, Girls just say true or false..I loved you btw.. fly away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;Butterfly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091433999656937186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HCmnJJeQq4U/RqhoP0Ll5uI/AAAAAAAAAB4/PhtTyD4XFiM/s320/cocoon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy in my world,&lt;br /&gt;so innocent so pure.&lt;br /&gt;Enticed in my arms ,&lt;br /&gt;Protected, so secure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could I leave you,&lt;br /&gt;Not a moment alone.&lt;br /&gt;Pretty Smiling Face ,&lt;br /&gt;felt deep down the bone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was the secret,&lt;br /&gt;to your sleepless nights.&lt;br /&gt;the waiting hours,&lt;br /&gt;those long sighs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Radiating that glow,&lt;br /&gt;me coming home.&lt;br /&gt;Tried acting normal,&lt;br /&gt;but your eyes shone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;leave you, you said'&lt;br /&gt;you will die.&lt;br /&gt;ironies of my life,&lt;br /&gt;you didn even cry .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now how can you laugh,&lt;br /&gt;on my burning pyre&lt;br /&gt;trader of cocoons,&lt;br /&gt;yours skills I admire...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37241470-866158759990317582?l=theprabhdeep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/feeds/866158759990317582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37241470&amp;postID=866158759990317582' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/866158759990317582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/866158759990317582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/2007/07/butterfly-before-every-post-i-put-up-i.html' title=''/><author><name>The Prabhdeep</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08184280902592023020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_HCmnJJeQq4U/RqhoP0Ll5uI/AAAAAAAAAB4/PhtTyD4XFiM/s72-c/cocoon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37241470.post-997154822646014115</id><published>2007-04-25T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-25T08:04:11.564-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;And I Will Rise Again &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HCmnJJeQq4U/Ri9qubMdoKI/AAAAAAAAABw/PLiRB2nY2zA/s1600-h/untitled.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057378252366913698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HCmnJJeQq4U/Ri9qubMdoKI/AAAAAAAAABw/PLiRB2nY2zA/s320/untitled.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Supersaturation leads to Crystallization, Ironic that I wrote it on the notes of the chapter,Crystallization, that I am studying for my exam tomorrow.  Ironic because it had been so long I had not brought out the words, that something had to give. It comes out in the form of this poem, where 'the' man feels hope and experiences joy at the last moment of his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My World at its end,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Standing on the final bend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I look back and see,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;life that could have been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Memories like an inkblot,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Things I have, and I have not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You, but only in the mind,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One thing more, I can find.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The fights, the pain, all in vain,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Red, my blood, in the drain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your tear, My tears, ocean of hope,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Illusion, confusions, my new dope.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Had to run, have run away,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;without the soul, sun minus ray.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Look ahead, the famed cliff,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;is it deep? , all I wish.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah it is, deep down below,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;like my inside, black and hollow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you life, last and slow,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;like the wind, which's ceased to blow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here I go , and I fall,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But still is this  all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I look up, Sun, flaming red,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my only memory, cliff and 'the' edge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hit on face, by falling rain,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;lets me forget, all my pain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Smile, Hit back at the rain,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wait at top, I will Rise Again..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37241470-997154822646014115?l=theprabhdeep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/feeds/997154822646014115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37241470&amp;postID=997154822646014115' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/997154822646014115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/997154822646014115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/2007/04/and-i-will-rise-again-my-world-at-its.html' title=''/><author><name>The Prabhdeep</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08184280902592023020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_HCmnJJeQq4U/Ri9qubMdoKI/AAAAAAAAABw/PLiRB2nY2zA/s72-c/untitled.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37241470.post-8569969910499488865</id><published>2007-03-03T01:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T08:08:37.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;I've Found Something to Die for - My Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Keeping busy, Very Busy. But will be back soon, I have a Story in 'the' Pipeline and some new works still buried beneath the Posters and Banners of A.P.I - The Pharma Quiz that we are organizing. So wait guys, I assure it will be worth every second. Its my promise, 'the' Promise&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37241470-8569969910499488865?l=theprabhdeep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/feeds/8569969910499488865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37241470&amp;postID=8569969910499488865' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/8569969910499488865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/8569969910499488865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/2007/03/ive-found-someone-to-die-for-my-life.html' title=''/><author><name>The Prabhdeep</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08184280902592023020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37241470.post-3151866140376675075</id><published>2007-01-01T14:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-01T14:27:07.845-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;The Best Way to Predict the Future is to Create it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;coming soon-my first attempt at a short story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37241470-3151866140376675075?l=theprabhdeep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/feeds/3151866140376675075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37241470&amp;postID=3151866140376675075' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/3151866140376675075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/3151866140376675075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/2007/01/best-way-to-predict-future-is-to-create.html' title=''/><author><name>The Prabhdeep</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08184280902592023020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37241470.post-7008602784541785294</id><published>2006-12-25T07:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-25T09:34:07.032-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Leave Me Baby.....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HCmnJJeQq4U/RY_0uOs1-iI/AAAAAAAAAAk/GksvPABuS48/s1600-h/alone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012493985343994402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HCmnJJeQq4U/RY_0uOs1-iI/AAAAAAAAAAk/GksvPABuS48/s320/alone.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hide your lying eyes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;they look for truth in mine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Keep smiling that fake smile,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Oh yeah! It looks just fine..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You are there still, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;but i have learnt to live without you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;My love isn't vengeance &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;it's yours that's no longer true.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Signs are there everywhere &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;you and me have drifted away.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Well lets blame time, this time&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;or take the chance, have your say!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Life is not a poem, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;It doesnt need to end well.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Leave me baby!! go away,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;there's no place for you in my fabel.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But take my wishes,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;for the moments spent together.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Sunshine's gone forever,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Let's move on to different weathers...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37241470-7008602784541785294?l=theprabhdeep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/feeds/7008602784541785294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37241470&amp;postID=7008602784541785294' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/7008602784541785294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/7008602784541785294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/2006/12/leave-me-baby.html' title=''/><author><name>The Prabhdeep</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08184280902592023020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_HCmnJJeQq4U/RY_0uOs1-iI/AAAAAAAAAAk/GksvPABuS48/s72-c/alone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37241470.post-5467686342158323993</id><published>2006-11-23T21:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-13T22:12:32.769-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;IRONIES&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/638/4546/1600/170330/iron.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/638/4546/320/349320/iron.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lying down to sleep yesterday, I suddenly started thinking. Thinking not in the sense, that I had something particular to think about. My mind was not like a kite with the string attached, instead it was one whose string has been cut, allowed to go anywhere, fall to ground or reach for the higher skies according to 'its' wish. ( all you physicists out there, take wind as negligible)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I recalled my days in 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, my mom's telling me," &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Prabhdeep&lt;/span&gt;, this is the most important class of your career, 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; marks will go everywhere with you. Study seriously, and have these &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;badaams&lt;/span&gt;(almonds, you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Englishmen&lt;/span&gt;) and why didn't you have the milk in the morning, you are the most emotionless person &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;I've&lt;/span&gt; ever seen, you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; respect other's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;feelin&lt;/span&gt;....." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I worked hard, according to my standards. Awaiting the results, my dad told me," Son, you get 85% and I am a relieved man, You want something, you get that." Not that he is a man of few words but he isn't really into my studies, instead as he says he is into my career. Irony? No, a fact.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I still &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;remember&lt;/span&gt; the date, 28&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; may 2004. I could feel the tears in my mom's eyes, and regret in my dad's. Mom was crying because she was so happy, and dad was regretting his 85% estimate. I got 95%. 100 in maths and 99 in SST, 96 in English and 97 in Science. Well, for a change even I was happy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;happiness&lt;/span&gt; was short lived. Two days later I was giving entrance test for Chem. Coaching for 11&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; medical. And the way I performed in that, I was seriously inspired to get the revaluation of my boards result done. Anyways, as fortune favours the brave( I was brave, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;coz&lt;/span&gt; I didn't study for it, and according to my mom, it was 'the' most imp. exam). I cleared it and found myself sitting in a room choked with 90 people and the antennas on my head were catching 'intelligence' all around. But weren't 95% meant to be enough. Surprise, I was 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; in the class of 90 because I had only 84 marks in Hindi,( I topped my school in that too, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;lolz&lt;/span&gt;).. I could literally see the disgust on others faces for me,.. being inferior is a crime.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My effort for my medical entrances was what my teachers described as waste of talent, My physics teacher told me one day, " &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Prabhdeep&lt;/span&gt;, you have the potential, convert it into kinetic". I ran away &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt;. Kinetic, anyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My mom told me,"you are becoming one of those of whom I used to warn you about". &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Shakespeare&lt;/span&gt; would have been proud of you mom. But she was right. I was there everywhere. Cafe Coffee Day and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Barista&lt;/span&gt; still welcome me with open arms, and this joint Golfers in sec-35 had reserved a seat permanently for me and my partners in crime, best pals- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Baltej, Sahil&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Jivesh&lt;/span&gt;. We were nude on a roundabout one day, and dancing in the middle of a highway the other. Whenever we were together, me and J&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;ivesh&lt;/span&gt; would have been talking on phone with the so called love-0f-our-lives and B&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;altej&lt;/span&gt; would have been checking the chicks all around. Hope is the only thing he had, unfortunately for him Hope wasn't a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Kaur&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;lolz&lt;/span&gt;... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;By the way, I am an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;all rounder&lt;/span&gt;. Therefore it was my duty to represent the school in various competitions. Went twice to ESPN quiz nationals, represented Chandigarh in HT &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;InQuizitive&lt;/span&gt; National Finals in Delhi, was runners-up in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Helpage&lt;/span&gt; India Quiz Finals-Delhi. And I swear, my biggest win at that time was beating &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Abhimanyu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Bansal&lt;/span&gt;(childhood friend) and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Raghu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Mahajan&lt;/span&gt; (childhood idol) in a low standard inter-school quiz. I saw low-standard because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Abhi&lt;/span&gt; has erased that day from his calender, and this is the excuse he gives whenever we fight like insecure guys. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;lolz&lt;/span&gt;.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But the biggest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;triumph&lt;/span&gt; of my life is Winning the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Wiz&lt;/span&gt;-Kids Nationals held at Bangalore. Out of two lac students all over India, 6 were chosen depending on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;criteria&lt;/span&gt; like IQ, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;EQ&lt;/span&gt;, and all that stuff and I was one of them. My project on 'Psychological Problems in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;Todays&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;Adolescents&lt;/span&gt;' was voted as the best project all over India. For more info on the project check-www.roobaroo-yu.blogspot.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;By this time last year I had decided that I can't become a doctor, not because I wasn't into blood and guts( come on fear factor is my most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;prefrrd&lt;/span&gt; dinner time soap) . But because I couldn't see myself 4 years down the line in that lab coat, still eating almonds. I wanted to be in a tuxedo, and sniping the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;villains&lt;/span&gt; off. Or in real life, in a 3 button suit, firing people who aren't doing their job well. So when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Jivesh's&lt;/span&gt; mom told me about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;NMIMS&lt;/span&gt; and the MBA-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Pharmatech&lt;/span&gt; course, i knew &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; it, for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My dad speculated mine getting maybe a management seat there, because he hadn't seen me studying for years, ( whenever we argued on this, i always told him that i study late at night when he is sleeping, so he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; see me studying at all.. Truth- I was glued to my cell phone for hours like a good teen.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My mom was confident, that I would get in somewhere, where, no one knew. I studied for 3 days and gave the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;NMAT&lt;/span&gt;. And didn't study &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;for&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;CET&lt;/span&gt; because hadn't I already studied for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;NMAT&lt;/span&gt;.!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;By the way, Boards also finished during this time. I was happy with my performance, and so were my school teachers, because for the first time in 2 years they saw me coming on time for an examination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Both the results came out. I got 85% in boards, little less than what i expected, but again 10% more than my dad's estimation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And I secured, to my dad's surprise, 3rd rank all over India in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;NMAT&lt;/span&gt; written. No, I wasn't happy, because it meant moving to M&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;umbai&lt;/span&gt;, and in my dreams I had seen that Tuxedo guy coming home to the love of his life, and she kissing all his murders away. It meant leaving her, and she was part of my life for good 14 months now. Anyways I came to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Mumbai&lt;/span&gt;( Irony- it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;shud&lt;/span&gt; have been 'went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;mumbai&lt;/span&gt;') for the interview determined to screw things up. But the interviewer was impressed with my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56"&gt;over smartness&lt;/span&gt; and overconfidence and over-the-edge answers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I got all India rank 1 in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;NMAT&lt;/span&gt; after the interview, my things were packed before I could say good-bye to any of my friends, before I could kiss my beloved, and before I could do the '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Pairi&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Paina&lt;/span&gt;' to any of my thousand &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;rishtedaars&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Suddenly awakened by my flat-mates for dinner, I realized how much thinking about the old days comforted me. Days which I took for granted. People who were taken for granted, are the ones I miss the most. How many miles am I ready to travel for her 'I miss you' and how many miles have we gone apart...., how much my parents care for me. How I can do anything for that silly smile on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;baltej's&lt;/span&gt; face, and how much am I ready to pay for a dinner with all my guys at Khyber.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lying down with the burden of all those percentages, and all those certificates, why &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_62"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; I consider them as 'the' things in my life. My course is great, college is the best I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_63" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;could've&lt;/span&gt; got, but then why is that 3 buttoned manager now naked, stripped of everything. Stripped of love, friends, care, security. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But, for the first time, Its something inside me saying, this is the most important exam of my life, I will pass with flying colours as with the others. Only problem- they lasted for 3 hours, this will last for 5 years......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Well would like to thank a few people who have made my teens, my childhood the perfect place to be- baltej,jivesh,hk,sahil( i didn mention him once bcoz his and mine advntrs deserve a seprte post), hashmeet, harnihal, satyan, primal, sukhbir, dilmeet, ridhima, amandi(lucky to have u), swati, hundeep, she, somriti, manmeet, abhi, pamel, madhur( head grl, did all my work when I was the head boy) , meha( distance doesn matter),gurneet, kaka, multani, inderjit, arnika and all of you.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Please comment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37241470-5467686342158323993?l=theprabhdeep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/feeds/5467686342158323993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37241470&amp;postID=5467686342158323993' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/5467686342158323993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/5467686342158323993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/2006/11/ironies-lying-down-to-sleep-yesterday-i.html' title=''/><author><name>The Prabhdeep</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08184280902592023020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37241470.post-2728168174958253686</id><published>2006-11-13T10:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T23:49:42.804-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Another Boulevard....'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/638/4546/1600/26588904.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Another Boulevard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;In the movie Waaris Shah-Ishq da Vaaris, there is this scene in which Waaris Shah's mentor asks him to fall in love and experience a heart break, so that the words coming out of him are drenched in pain. Although Waaris at that time was quite dumb-struck with this idea, but the same Waaris gave us the 'Heer' which all Punjabi's swear by, once he had experienced the sweet poison known as love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;At that point of time, I was yawning away with popcorn all over my lap, and the cold drink already inside my system. For me, all that crying over lost love didn't seem appropriate, after all there are so many alternatives, and so many choices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And if I have learnt something in these 15 day, it is the fact that time teaches a lesson to everyone. And having got one, I think that maybe I didn't deserve one so soon. But since my rehabilitation is over now, and life has come back on track, I think I can have the privilege to share what I went through, and seeing the encouragement you have given me , I promise this won't be the last poem written by me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Another Boulevard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 190px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 271px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="253" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/638/4546/320/26588904.0.jpg" width="174" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PROLOGUE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can see that day, when I wasn't well,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I had fever, and felt like hell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I had promised, I had to come, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So what I couldn't feel you, I felt so numb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You were there in front of me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but my eyes weren't supporting me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wanted to fulfill all your needs,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but that day, it just wasn't meant to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what happened next, made me feel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You were in love, as much as me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You could see it all through my closing eyes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the diminished sparkle, and lowering highs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That hug and the kiss,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Your I love you that i still miss,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;those arms which envoloped me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that lap on which i slept,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;for the hours to be..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My waking up and yours telling me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Shango go home, it's already three.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Two hours you didn't move for me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How can they say, It just wasn't meant to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___________________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;EPILOGUE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What happened then, when i came to you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;apology in eyes, to make the falses true?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I kept standing there, clothes and without,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Things had changed, you didnt come out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The image of your's sleeping, made my blood boil,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My ring thrown outside, made me fire and oil.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wanted to cry,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to bleed and die.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But ended up asking you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;just the question why?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You answered,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;" the love wasn't true,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the trust was lost,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you just aren't you."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I argued,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"My love Is true,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Trust can be regained,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;as long as I Love You."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What you said next,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I couldn't believe,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;" I am happy without you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;let live and please leave!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Broken Heart, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and moulded dreams,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dreams that were you, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dreams that I can no longer dream..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As long as you are happy, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How can I be sad,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wanted to be good,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ended up this bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You were my blood,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and I your soul,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You've played yours,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am playing my role.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Please come back,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Jaan, my dear,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am here forever,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Your joy, Your tear....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Prabhdeep Singh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;13.11.06.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Maybe that is the biggest Irony of my life, the earthquake came while i was still making the foundation, My story ended at Prologue. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;                                           Your comments are the fuel guys.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37241470-2728168174958253686?l=theprabhdeep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/feeds/2728168174958253686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37241470&amp;postID=2728168174958253686' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/2728168174958253686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/2728168174958253686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/2006/11/in-movie-waaris-shah-ishq-da-vaaris.html' title=''/><author><name>The Prabhdeep</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08184280902592023020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37241470.post-116283650111767741</id><published>2006-11-06T09:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T10:11:53.922-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And they say move on.....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2968/4179/1600/Image(060)_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="225" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2968/4179/320/Image%28060%29_1.jpg" width="284" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the elements conspire,&lt;br /&gt;and tears swell up in your eyes,&lt;br /&gt;when the memories come flooding back,&lt;br /&gt;and the time no longer flies....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know you have loved and lost,&lt;br /&gt;and now there is nothing you can do,&lt;br /&gt;she knows you lived for her,&lt;br /&gt;keep wishing she lives for you..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see her eyes have changed,&lt;br /&gt;now nothing will be same again,&lt;br /&gt;This is what i always said,&lt;br /&gt;love is a joy that is followed by pain..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Prabhdeep Singh&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;6th Nov,2006&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37241470-116283650111767741?l=theprabhdeep.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/feeds/116283650111767741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37241470&amp;postID=116283650111767741' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/116283650111767741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37241470/posts/default/116283650111767741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theprabhdeep.blogspot.com/2006/11/when-elements-conspire-and-tears-swell.html' title=''/><author><name>The Prabhdeep</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08184280902592023020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry></feed>
