<?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-18071351</id><updated>2012-02-16T14:51:55.571+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Come, journey with me :-)</title><subtitle type='html'>A glimpse of life as we journey through it.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>81</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-761102983740934839</id><published>2010-04-13T16:45:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-13T17:56:32.049+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Can you hear the music?</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2  style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.”– Angela Monet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;One of my friends posted this on her FB status and the thought that crossed my mind immediately was - "How true!" very quickly followed by - "Why!? This happens to the best of us in all walks of life."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;Those of us who 'hear the music', dare to be dreamers and think out-of-the-box, know that it takes a lot of courage firstly to dare to be different, secondly to dare to dream and thirdly to put your dream out there for everybody to see it!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;You never know how people are going to react to it. They never seem to get it that the dream is precious to you. Most likely, they would try to knock it down and tell you how they think it's impossible and how you should really just forget all about it and do the safe, regular thing.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;It's probably a way of consoling themselves that they have not settled for less when they really have.  I call it the 'crab-mentality'. Have you ever seen a basket full of crabs? The moment one starts climbing upwards, the other crabs pull it down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;All I'm saying is don't base whether you follow your dream or not on what other people think or say about it. Just pray and ask God to give you the grace and strength and step out and do it! Your dreams might come true or may not.. But at least you would have tried.&lt;/span&gt; And trust me, you will find people along the way who will believe you and support you.. Because that is God's provision!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Life goes on, no matter what.  But at the end, you will might end up being a little more satisfied than before. &lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;So, all you fellow 'dancers' - follow your own music, travel your own road, chase your dream, think out-of-the-box, dare to be different!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;I acknowledge your courage and wait eagerly for you to recount how your dream came true, even as I pursue mine!&lt;/span&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/18071351-761102983740934839?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/761102983740934839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=761102983740934839&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/761102983740934839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/761102983740934839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2010/04/can-you-hear-music.html' title='Can you hear the music?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-4251918002231642948</id><published>2010-04-08T19:13:00.008+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-08T20:36:43.828+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Summers of yore</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S73t5qOwmAI/AAAAAAAAAMM/3dzPTzouiKw/s1600/category_thermometers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 218px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S73t5qOwmAI/AAAAAAAAAMM/3dzPTzouiKw/s320/category_thermometers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457779898287429634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The mercury is rising with every single day. And as I listen to people complain about the heat, the humidity, the global warming, etc... I stop right in the middle of it all and my mind is transported to the summers  of the past..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In school times, when I was a kid whose age was still a single digit number, summers meant long, long vacations. Some times it meant month long trips to our native place including several visits to numerous relatives. Some long boring days (if we didn't go out of town for the holidays) were filled with staying indoors during the day and learning Bible verses and waiting expectantly for evening to arrive so we could go out and play. We could stay out later than usual. It also meant eating ripe, juicy mangoes that we had collected after throwing stones at the fruit on the trees in our compound, visits from relatives, staying overnight at friends houses, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S73uEZ85W5I/AAAAAAAAAMU/A3Y9A1g5aVQ/s1600/mango.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 192px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S73uEZ85W5I/AAAAAAAAAMU/A3Y9A1g5aVQ/s320/mango.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457780082896100242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I grew up and became a teenager, summer meant vacations that were filled with feverishly running around for classes and coaching.. and learning and trying to cram as much as syllabus as we could even before the  academic year had  begun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The summer of 96 is one of the few that stands out for me because I'd just completed my board exams and our whole family along with my aunt's family did a month-long road trip through the south of India. We traveled in a jeep and had many exciting and some not so exciting adventures as we drove through cities, villages, highways, byways, little lanes, mountains, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S73uaam_W5I/AAAAAAAAAMc/T3pO6osk__I/s1600/gardenias.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 102px; height: 154px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S73uaam_W5I/AAAAAAAAAMc/T3pO6osk__I/s320/gardenias.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457780461029776274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The summer of 2001 also stands out for me as I was in my last year of degree college and I went through some life turning up side down kind of experiences.. I grew up in that one month like I'd never grown up in my entire life..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S73uwxd9aGI/AAAAAAAAAMk/z9PiSMeZY6w/s1600/ButterMilk+with+dill+%281%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S73uwxd9aGI/AAAAAAAAAMk/z9PiSMeZY6w/s320/ButterMilk+with+dill+%281%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457780845123037282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ever since I've started working, it hasn't really made much of a difference whether it is summer or not.. but I love thinking back to those days and reminiscing about lazy laid back afternoons, long cold showers, getting together with cousins and having loads of fun, gorging on ripe mangoes, playing with the building kids like there was no tomorrow, drinking tons of butter milk, traveling to my parent's birth places, inhaling the exotic scents of some beautiful flowers, going for long walks with friends, one day outings with family..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea! Summer has some of the best memories.. :) They help me cope with the heat!&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/18071351-4251918002231642948?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/4251918002231642948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=4251918002231642948&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4251918002231642948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4251918002231642948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2010/04/summers-of-yore.html' title='Summers of yore'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S73t5qOwmAI/AAAAAAAAAMM/3dzPTzouiKw/s72-c/category_thermometers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-3870758992465626449</id><published>2010-04-01T11:02:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-01T11:41:04.941+05:30</updated><title type='text'>April Fool!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It's only been an hour since I woke up this morning and I've already faced 2 attempts at being made an "April Fool" of. So I thought I'd post something about this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;April Fools' Day&lt;/b&gt; or &lt;b&gt;All Fools' Day&lt;/b&gt; is a holiday celebrated in various countries on April 1. The day is marked by  hoaxes&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and  jokes of varying degrees on friends or family members or certain people with the aim of embarrassing them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth is, no one really knows where or how the celebration of April Fool's day all began. But people all around the world celebrate it and indulge in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always thought that the best pranks were when people come up them spontaneously and not when every one tries to do it on this one day when the whole world is expecting you to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've faced my fair share of being the brunt of some pranks ranging from being asked to call someone who was "trying to get in touch with me but couldn't" or  asked to "meet a friend" at a certain place at a certain time to being bid good bye forever because the person had just "realized what a bad friend I was" to even the very lame "won a lottery" one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've played my share of pranks on people as well and it's always good fun to see the person flounder for a bit. But don't make it too serious, people! Just keep it light so that the person who is the target can also laugh at it later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy April Fool's day &amp;amp; happy playing pranks on everyone around to one and all!&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/18071351-3870758992465626449?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/3870758992465626449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=3870758992465626449&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/3870758992465626449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/3870758992465626449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2010/04/april-fool.html' title='April Fool!'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-807858089171640881</id><published>2010-03-31T22:10:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-01T10:58:20.954+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Some cheesy quotes from Hollywood movies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. You complete me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Renee Zellweger in "Jerry Maguire"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. I'm King of the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Leonardo Dicaprio in "Titanic"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Love means never having to say you're sorry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ryan O'Neal in "Love Story"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. I'm just a girl in front of a boy asking him to love her&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Julia Roberts in "Notting Hill"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. Nobody puts Baby in the corner.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Patrick Swayze in"Dirty Dancing"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6. Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's gonna cave in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Wes Bentley in "American Beauty"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7. You make me want to be a better man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Jack Nicholson in "As good as it gets"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8. I'll be back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Arnold Schwarzenegger in "Terminator"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9. You say things like that and you make it impossible for me to hate you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Meg Ryan in "When Harry meets Sally"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10. You had me at hello.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-Renee Zellweger in "Jerry Maguire"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Laugh away people!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-807858089171640881?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/807858089171640881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=807858089171640881&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/807858089171640881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/807858089171640881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2010/03/some-cheesy-quotes-from-hollywood.html' title='Some cheesy quotes from Hollywood movies'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-4866776971425057572</id><published>2010-03-30T22:09:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-01T20:32:04.522+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Rickshaw rides - Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;More on the interesting rides I have had in the famous pollution causing three wheelers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One evening, Aks and I met up and took a rickshaw to Malad to meet Sam, her then fiance and my best friend, for dinner. We had just finished shopping and visiting a dress designer so we were quite engrossed in discussing everything we had seen, heard, bought and experienced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we were busy talking, we were rudely shocked when some person jumped onto our rickshaw and hung from the roof while trying to get his feet on the passenger's foot board. It took us a few seconds to get over the shock and realize that it was a traffic cop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, while we were busy talking, our rickshaw driver saw some traffic at a signal and decided that he didn't want to wait till the traffic cleared. So he decided to drive on the wrong side of the road! What he didn't think of was that he would be pulled over by the police. So when that happened, our man decided that he was Michael Schumacher and tried to give the cop the dodge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cop who pulled him over was a younger guy than you usually get to see. He was also angrier than you would usually get to see. The next thing that happened was not a pretty sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He managed to get the driver to stop driving. Got into the front seat next to the driver. And rammed his helmet clad head into the poor driver's head a few times. He then got him to stop and delivered a karate kick.. went over to the other side and delivered another karate kick.. and he was wearing very chunky shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this happened in a matter of few seconds. And before Aks and I could even protest or get a word out of our mouths, the rickshaw driver got himself a few slaps, after which the cop turned around and asked us with the most polite smile to find another rickshaw. He even flagged one down for us and made sure we got in alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For many minutes after that, Aks and I rode in perfect silence. We didn't take our eyes off the road. After we got over the shock of the whole incident, we started talking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to be more alert after that while riding a rickshaw.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-4866776971425057572?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/4866776971425057572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=4866776971425057572&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4866776971425057572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4866776971425057572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2010/03/rickshaw-rides-part-2.html' title='Rickshaw rides - Part 2'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-4797736554547425135</id><published>2010-03-29T15:13:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-29T17:05:57.487+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The last 3 months</title><content type='html'>So much has happened over the last three months that I really do not know where to start. Let's see..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Started the year without a job&lt;br /&gt;-Within the first 10 days I had various job offers and options&lt;br /&gt;-Was invited along with the rest of my worship team to lead worship at a high profile wedding anniversary celebration&lt;br /&gt;- Enjoyed the break from the routine of working&lt;br /&gt;- Spent some quality time with friends&lt;br /&gt;-Lost some&lt;br /&gt;-Gained a lot&lt;br /&gt;-Forged new friendships.&lt;br /&gt;-Gave the house a make over as my parents were out of town for a week&lt;br /&gt;-Started working again and took up 1 main job and a few free lance ones&lt;br /&gt;-Loved working from home and the flexibility that brings along&lt;br /&gt;-Celebrated a friend's birthday&lt;br /&gt;- Changed hair style again (after a rough, taxing day only to realize that the day was not over and that there was more to come - My poor hair always bears the brunt of my moodiness or my creativity or my craziness!)&lt;br /&gt;- Had some extremely frustrating and heart-breakingly depressing times&lt;br /&gt;- Had some amazingly exhilarating and uplifting times&lt;br /&gt;- Watched huge amount of TV for the first time (I'm not a very TV person)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And much much more which cannot be put down here.. But I am looking forward to the next few months to see what else I can get up to, and what other changes are coming my way :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-4797736554547425135?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/4797736554547425135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=4797736554547425135&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4797736554547425135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4797736554547425135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2010/03/last-3-months.html' title='The last 3 months'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-4221671102864904539</id><published>2010-03-22T23:04:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-22T23:27:32.073+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Rickshaw rides - Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Somehow, I've had the most interesting rickshaw rides. Figures.. since a major part of our lives in this city is spent traveling in these 3 wheeled wonders that have the most interesting variety of drivers ranging from ingenious to obnoxious. So I'm going to try and describe some of the experiences here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to have long rickshaw rides from work back home with a friend I'm going to call Hal. Hal and I would have the most amazing conversations and these rickshaw rides were sometimes like an oasis in the desert, especially after a tough day at work. We would share the most personal secrets, talk about what we thought of various people, topics, ideas, etc.. talk about dreams, share laughs, caution each other, put our heads together for solutions to problems and on the rare occasion even enjoy a comfortable silent ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hal also had this habit of engaging the driver in conversation and of course would get off before I did. It would then be left to me to keep up the conversation as the driver would expect me to as chatty as Hal. Ugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most often, I would pull out my phone and call or text a friend in an effort to extricate myself from the situation..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once Hal was slightly drunk and we started talking about the kind of dreams we have. I learnt a lot about him that night that I'm not going to forget in a hurry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hal and I don't work together anymore and have kind of lost touch and I miss all those fun times and the intense ones too.. And I'm glad for whatever we were able to share and enjoy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-4221671102864904539?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/4221671102864904539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=4221671102864904539&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4221671102864904539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4221671102864904539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2010/03/rickshaw-rides-part-1.html' title='Rickshaw rides - Part 1'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-3986225882792422928</id><published>2010-03-22T22:37:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-22T23:26:50.321+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Why do we hurt the ones we love the most?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Have you thought about it? I know this post seems like a bit of a ramble but go along with it.. Why is it that we hurt the ones that are closest to us? And  cause so much pain? Or why is it that the ones we love are the ones who leave the worst wounds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it.. Is it because they are the ones we love? Is it because we love them? Or is it because of expectations? High expectations? Different expectations? Lack of communication? Taking each other for granted?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what next? Do we stop having expectations from those who are nearest and dearest to us? If we stop having expectations from them, who else can expect from? Can we improve communication? How much is ideal? I mean... you don't want to over do it, do you? What about taking people for granted? We could learn to notice and appreciate people more..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm... I guess the bottom line is that most human beings (close or otherwise) are not reliable when it comes to fulfilling expectations. Everyone has a different idea on what the ideal communication level should be. And each person has a different tolerance level and understanding of the term 'being taken for granted.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This still doesn't leave us with an answer... but just food for thought.. Why? Why do we hurt the ones we love the most? Why do the ones we love cause us most pain?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-3986225882792422928?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/3986225882792422928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=3986225882792422928&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/3986225882792422928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/3986225882792422928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2010/03/why-do-we-hurt-ones-we-love-most.html' title='Why do we hurt the ones we love the most?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-6142930267324643996</id><published>2009-12-11T10:17:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2010-01-10T23:34:13.207+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Where did 2009 go?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S0oUnALVkAI/AAAAAAAAAL8/0wade_nNCI8/s1600-h/Five-New-Years-Hats-AA0107-de.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S0oUnALVkAI/AAAAAAAAAL8/0wade_nNCI8/s320/Five-New-Years-Hats-AA0107-de.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425171361416187906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I had prepared this in early December and don't know why I didn't post this then. But may be because there were a final few things left that were destined to take place that had to go into this record. So here's what I had worked on with a few additions to the last paragraph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're already in December and I just realized the year has almost come to an end. So of course, like everyone else, I look back over the year to see how it has flown by and what are the highlights. Here's a review!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;January:&lt;/span&gt; Started the year with spending time with my lovely friends from church and dinner with two of my closest friends - Sam &amp;amp; Akanksha, Emailing Anna girl every day and remembering that one day she told me - Seek ye first the kingdom of God and all these things shall be added unto you, Salary cuts, saying bye to Ranjeet as he was leaving for Italy, Spending two days out of the city with friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;February: &lt;/span&gt;Planning Jesse's birthday with Ann and putting the big "FRIENDS" quiz together, Nora's mum meeting with an accident, met with some friends who had come down from the US and had a really nice time with them, Read an amazing book called The Shack, got involved with starting off  activities with the youth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;March: &lt;/span&gt;The fun we had at Jesse's birthday (Joel cheated on the quiz!), learning new things about work, enjoying working with Bharathy once again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;April: &lt;/span&gt;Lost my voice for 4 days and had the most frustrating time, Making plans for Chotu's birthday, Receiving some ridiculous proposals from some very unsuitable guys, dealing with a person who was being manipulative and trying to leech on to my time, dealing with family as they tried to convince me to come to a cousin's wedding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;May: &lt;/span&gt;An amazing, amazing week in Bangalore (spent really good time with my friend Andy and was treated like a princess by another friend who actually accompanied me to the airport!), Got invited to lead worship at at event, Met some friends who were down from the US and had a nice time with them, Spent some time with another amazing friend Nalini, Spending time with Nora, Karen telling us that she was going to get married, Nora going back to Goa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;June: &lt;/span&gt;Week alone at home as parents attended a cousin's wedding, Planning for a holiday that was never meant to be, two of my dearest friends getting engaged, having a bit of an intense time at work, Fought a lot with a friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;July: &lt;/span&gt;Sneaked out on a very rainy day when everyone else was getting stranded in the city with some of my dearest friends to watch a movie, Made up with the friend I fought with last month, Saw someone close go through heart break, Ranjeet came back from Italy, had an old photo viewing session with Rob, Ann &amp;amp; Chris and we laughed like crazy people, Getting confirmation on what to do in the future&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;August: &lt;/span&gt;My darling friends threw a surprise party for me, had three more friends celebrate birthdays, Nora came down to Bombay, helped a friend house hunt, made new friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;September: &lt;/span&gt;Went to Goa and had a really nice time, made some more new friends, Had a really tough time at work, Sam &amp;amp; Aks did some spontaneous stuff &amp;amp; made me feel very special, Met Pastor Willie, had some more tough times&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;October: &lt;/span&gt;A holiday to the south to attend a cousin's wedding and spend time with Sujatha as she was down for a bit, celebrated Anna girl's and Joel's birthdays, Spent good times with friends, loads of long late night phone &amp;amp; chat conversations&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;November: &lt;/span&gt;Plans getting more concrete for the future, An amazing trip to West Bengal, Made new friends, Extremely late nights, tons of long late night phone &amp;amp; chat conversations, faced some more annoying shaadi.com business,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S0oV4U9lBnI/AAAAAAAAAME/AZqj7FfYQu0/s1600-h/new-year1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S0oV4U9lBnI/AAAAAAAAAME/AZqj7FfYQu0/s320/new-year1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425172758565029490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;December: &lt;/span&gt;Loads of positive reponses and confirmations for future plans, Some extremely nerve wracking times at work, Helping with Sam &amp;amp; Aks wedding prep, Deciding over the the weekend just before Christmas to quit my job, Actually quitting my job, Assisting with more wedding prep, having a ball at the wedding and rounding  the year off with some wonderful time spent with some of my closest friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This exercise has actually helped me see what was good about 2009 because I kept thinking that it really wasn't that great a year!&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/18071351-6142930267324643996?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/6142930267324643996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=6142930267324643996&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/6142930267324643996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/6142930267324643996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/12/where-did-2009-go.html' title='Where did 2009 go?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/S0oUnALVkAI/AAAAAAAAAL8/0wade_nNCI8/s72-c/Five-New-Years-Hats-AA0107-de.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-1727956925040369341</id><published>2009-11-17T10:05:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-11-17T10:24:46.378+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Pray you don't get a son like Calvin!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIsfJrqCZI/AAAAAAAAALU/YJjmsVsv0yk/s1600/CH07.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 104px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIsfJrqCZI/AAAAAAAAALU/YJjmsVsv0yk/s320/CH07.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404931416484612498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIse3EsC9I/AAAAAAAAALM/VQGsw2-l9Us/s1600/CH06.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 100px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIse3EsC9I/AAAAAAAAALM/VQGsw2-l9Us/s320/CH06.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404931411489328082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIsY5r57EI/AAAAAAAAALE/waavxw8Bd_8/s1600/CH05.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 101px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIsY5r57EI/AAAAAAAAALE/waavxw8Bd_8/s320/CH05.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404931309111471170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIsYSjw4tI/AAAAAAAAAK8/TyFOt6TVi2c/s1600/CH04.GIF"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 105px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIsYSjw4tI/AAAAAAAAAK8/TyFOt6TVi2c/s320/CH04.GIF" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404931298608341714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIsYIUCarI/AAAAAAAAAK0/PeYxFntKR4Q/s1600/CH03.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 102px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIsYIUCarI/AAAAAAAAAK0/PeYxFntKR4Q/s320/CH03.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404931295858027186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIsX18I26I/AAAAAAAAAKs/Qo3hFRwKoBI/s1600/CH02.GIF"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 105px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIsX18I26I/AAAAAAAAAKs/Qo3hFRwKoBI/s320/CH02.GIF" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404931290925947810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIsXb85TrI/AAAAAAAAAKk/9RI6l-2pCBo/s1600/CH01.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 102px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIsXb85TrI/AAAAAAAAAKk/9RI6l-2pCBo/s320/CH01.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404931283949801138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-1727956925040369341?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/1727956925040369341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=1727956925040369341&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1727956925040369341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1727956925040369341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/11/pray-you-dont-get-son-like-calvin.html' title='Pray you don&apos;t get a son like Calvin!'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SwIsfJrqCZI/AAAAAAAAALU/YJjmsVsv0yk/s72-c/CH07.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-3688056022124380917</id><published>2009-09-21T08:56:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-09-21T10:50:09.072+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A month has gone by</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I know it's been a while since I posted something here.. Life has been busy.. it's been so crazy. I can't believe that more than a month has gone by since I last posted. So many things have happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come closer to some people and have drawn far from some. I've taken on more responsibilities and I've let some go. I've made new friends &amp;amp; reconnected with old ones as well. Time will tell whether they are for keeps. I've gone through excruciating pain &amp;amp; also amazingly surprising happiness. I've traveled on work &amp;amp; managed to have some fun times with people. I overcame the barrier of physical distance in one relationship &amp;amp; actually made use of the physical distance as a barrier in another. I've been terribly discouraged &amp;amp; incredibly encouraged. People I didn't expect showed support and people I thought would support showed doubt..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There have also been some happenings in my spiritual life. And I'm glad because I really feel like God is drawing me closer to Him. I know there have been some struggles &amp;amp; some difficult times where this is concerned. The last one month feels like a roller coaster of fighting battles &amp;amp; times of receiving strength from God. But even as God restores &amp;amp; refreshes me, I wait in anticipation of what's going to come up next. Any inconsistency (I know for sure) is from my end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything else in my life be it work, be it church, be it my personal life is in some way or the other connected to the whole spiritual aspect. And despite all the difficult things that have taken place this last month and despite the extreme agony &amp;amp; pain, God has really blessed me with some amazing support in the form of some very dear friends. They may not understand me all the time, but they love me enough to be with me when I need them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, here is a passage that came to me quite strongly some days back. And it gave me immense encouragement to know that even though things don't look that great, we have to exult &amp;amp; rejoice in God and He is the one that gives us strength &amp;amp; victory to walk in high places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4&gt;Habakkuk 3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17 Though the fig tree does not bud&lt;br /&gt;     and there are no grapes on the vines,&lt;br /&gt;     though the olive crop fails&lt;br /&gt;     and the fields produce no food,&lt;br /&gt;     though there are no sheep in the pen&lt;br /&gt;     and no cattle in the stalls, &lt;p&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-22787"&gt;18&lt;/sup&gt; yet I will rejoice in the LORD,&lt;br /&gt;     I will be joyful in God my Savior. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-22788"&gt;19&lt;/sup&gt; The Sovereign LORD is my strength;&lt;br /&gt;     he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,&lt;br /&gt;     he enables me to go on the heights. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-3688056022124380917?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/3688056022124380917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=3688056022124380917&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/3688056022124380917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/3688056022124380917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/09/month-has-gone-by.html' title='A month has gone by'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-3814986948982002416</id><published>2009-08-12T09:05:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-12T09:27:30.096+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Love is a verb</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Some years back I was listening to a song without paying much attention to the lyrics. And then suddenly one of the lines just stood out. It said - Love is not a feeling but an act of your will. That line took hold and it refused to let go. So I thought about it.. And it changed the way I looked at love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SoI84TUbluI/AAAAAAAAAJk/lJ_mbdTMoc4/s1600-h/love01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 80px; height: 80px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SoI84TUbluI/AAAAAAAAAJk/lJ_mbdTMoc4/s320/love01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368920643735361250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Love, I realized, is a verb. It's an act of your will. It's something you consciously do. It's not a noun. Therefore it's not a thing but an action that you carry out. Love does not happen to you. People don't fall in love. They decide to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My perspective on love changed. I realized that I'm in control of how I feel towards anyone. It was my choice whether to hate or love or get annoyed. If I hated some one, it was not out of my control to change it but I also realized that I would need some help with this kind of change. This is where God comes in because the human love is so conditional. But God's love is not. It's pure and unconditional and freely available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then my prayer has been that God would fill my heart with His love and enable me to love others just like He loved us. So try it out, people! Make a conscious decision and spread the love around!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SoI9L20k8zI/AAAAAAAAAJs/ksjJB72Xq4I/s1600-h/love+03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SoI9L20k8zI/AAAAAAAAAJs/ksjJB72Xq4I/s320/love+03.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368920979682947890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/18071351-3814986948982002416?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/3814986948982002416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=3814986948982002416&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/3814986948982002416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/3814986948982002416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/08/love-is-verb.html' title='Love is a verb'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SoI84TUbluI/AAAAAAAAAJk/lJ_mbdTMoc4/s72-c/love01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-193331279067930395</id><published>2009-07-22T14:11:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-07-22T14:22:28.656+05:30</updated><title type='text'>THE ROAD NOT TAKEN</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- by Robert Frost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SmbS3GppcKI/AAAAAAAAAJc/6N85bYFzF4E/s1600-h/2+roads.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 199px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SmbS3GppcKI/AAAAAAAAAJc/6N85bYFzF4E/s320/2+roads.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361204250551087266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And sorry I could not travel both&lt;br /&gt;And be one traveler, long I stood&lt;br /&gt;And looked down one as far as I could&lt;br /&gt;To where it bent in the undergrowth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then took the other, as just as fair,&lt;br /&gt;And having perhaps the better claim&lt;br /&gt;Because it was grassy and wanted wear;&lt;br /&gt;Though as for that the passing there&lt;br /&gt;Had worn them really about the same,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And both that morning equally lay&lt;br /&gt;In leaves no step had trodden black&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I kept the first for another day!&lt;br /&gt;Yet knowing how way leads on to way,&lt;br /&gt;I doubted if I should ever come back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall be telling this with a sigh&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere ages and ages hence:&lt;br /&gt;Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --&lt;br /&gt;I took the one less traveled by,&lt;br /&gt;And that has made all the difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-193331279067930395?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/193331279067930395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=193331279067930395&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/193331279067930395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/193331279067930395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/07/road-not-taken.html' title='THE ROAD NOT TAKEN'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SmbS3GppcKI/AAAAAAAAAJc/6N85bYFzF4E/s72-c/2+roads.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-2776686010649264242</id><published>2009-07-03T09:49:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-13T09:20:16.712+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Can I judge?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Yet another day of internet failure and the only thought that’s running through my head is that I could’ve stayed at home, gone online and gotten some work done or I could’ve slept an hour more or so and come in a little later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing that was going through my head on my commute to the office this morning was how we all have sinned. And this has no exceptions! Even the best and the holiest person you may know has definitely sinned sometime or the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember one time, a friend asked me to pray for him because he was struggling with sin in his life. Then he looked at me as if to say - why are you not judging me for what I just said? At that time, I just smiled and held his hand and prayed with him and then we went on to discuss other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now when I think of it, I wonder what gives us the right to judge people when we ourselves are in the same boat. Is it not said in the Bible that all have sinned and have fallen short of the glory of God? That right there is such an equalizer. Even though we categorize ourselves on the basis of gender, caste, creed, race, religion, culture, habits, etc.  We have something that makes us equal in the eyes of God. We are all sinners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What right do we have to judge people then? We all are guilty of this behavior. Some of us even more than the others. Some of us don’t even give people a chance to prove themselves before we judge them based on something really frivolous or something they may have done in the past. We are even willing to write people off because they do not fit the idea of how we think they should be. We put people in boxes that fit our convenience. It is so sad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Matthew 7: 1-5, Jesus says - 1"Do not judge, or you too will be judged. 2For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.  3"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 4How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? 5You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The consequences of judging people are very clear!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-2776686010649264242?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/2776686010649264242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=2776686010649264242&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/2776686010649264242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/2776686010649264242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/07/can-i-judge.html' title='Can I judge?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-7845703610962530837</id><published>2009-07-01T09:48:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-07-01T10:35:02.640+05:30</updated><title type='text'>P413!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I've had this up as my status on google for quite some time. It stands for a verse from the Bible. It's from Phillipians 4:13 and it says - I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;This verse has been such an inspiration in my life and has turned things around. I don't remember the exact moment I started believing this verse... I don't remember any thunder and lightning happening when the meaning became clear to me.. Don't remember skies opening up and light falling on my face... In short, it was not a dramatic moment but somehow I started believing that I can do all things because of God's presence in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Note that it does not say I can do 'one' thing.. It does not say I can do 'two' things, 'ten' things or 'hundred' things' or 'a million' things... No! Not even 'many' things... But it says I can do 'ALL' things... And all includes everything!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/Skrt42VdTmI/AAAAAAAAAI8/kb2Xzbr-TqQ/s1600-h/run01.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353352667997228642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 192px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 164px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/Skrt42VdTmI/AAAAAAAAAI8/kb2Xzbr-TqQ/s320/run01.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Once I started believing this, my life changed drastically. I changed! My perspective changed! My fear of attempting hard things was gone and things that looked impossible before, didn't anymore. I knew that God gave strength, grace and courage for those things that we think are not possible or are too hard or problematic or unpleasant even. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So, people, I would like you all to understand and believe this... There is nothing more empowering or liberating than knowing that you can do ANYTHING when you have the backing of the most Almighty, Powerful God. So go ahead and don't be afraid.. Remember you can do 'ALL' things through Christ who strengthens you! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-7845703610962530837?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/7845703610962530837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=7845703610962530837&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/7845703610962530837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/7845703610962530837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/07/p413.html' title='P413!'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/Skrt42VdTmI/AAAAAAAAAI8/kb2Xzbr-TqQ/s72-c/run01.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-5073028456858026569</id><published>2009-06-09T18:02:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-09T20:07:16.642+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Yet another quiz</title><content type='html'>Once again the internet was not working which gave me some time to fill out a quiz that my ex-colleague made up after getting a little tired of all of those surveys made up by high school kids. Any one of you feel like taking this one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. What bill do you hate paying the most?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cell phone, Internet and Electricity bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Do you miss being a child?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss being carefree and not having any responsibilities sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Chore you hate the most?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ironing clothes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Where was the last place you had a romantic dinner?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bangalore (more than a year back and it was not romantic but very close but not getting into too many details)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. If you could go back and change one thing what would it be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would make more efforts to never judge the person by the externals. Would want to give the person a chance to show what he/she is made of and who they really are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6. Name of your first grade teacher?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asha Ahuja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7. What do you really want to be doing right now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be on a beach or to go to water kingdom with my closest friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8. What did you want to be when you grew up?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher, Pilot, Fashion Designer, someone famous, list is endless…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9. How many colleges did you attend?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10. Why did you choose the shirt/dress/clothes that you have on right now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn’t worn it in a really long while and it was ironed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;11. What are your thoughts on gas/fuel prices?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems to me that they raise the prices on whims and fancies of a few selected people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;12. First thought when the alarm went off this morning?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I still make it in time to work if I sleep in for an extra half hour?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;13. Last thought before going to sleep last night?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankful to my friend for persistently calling and checking in on me to see if I was ok because he thought I sounded a bit down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;14. What famous person would you like to have dinner with?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny Depp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;15. Have you ever crashed your vehicle?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;16. If you didn't have to work, would you volunteer?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes.  I would volunteer with a cause related to kids.. would volunteer even with the work I'm doing currently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;17. Get up early or sleep in?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleep in! Sleep in! Always sleep in! I’m so not a morning person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;18. What is your favorite cartoon character?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jerry who absolutely drives Tom up the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;19. Favorite lunch meat?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;20. Do you go to church?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup! Regularly since childhood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;21. Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;22. Movie you like but wouldn't want anyone to find out about?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sound of Music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;23. What's your favorite drink?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lemon Flavoured Iced Tea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;24. Who from high school would you like to run in to?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None. The ones I want to, I’m already in touch with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;25. Worst relationship mistake that you wish you could take back?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking it for granted that the person will always be around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;26. Do you like the person that sits directly across from you at work?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;27 Have you ever had to use a fire extinguisher for its intended purposes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;28. What music are you listening to currently?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stuff on my ipod of which Don’t cry Joni – Conway Twitty is sticking out like a beacon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;29. Last book you finished reading?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Chronicles of brothers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;30. Do you have a teddy bear?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ummmm No. Not right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Taken on the morning of June 08, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-5073028456858026569?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/5073028456858026569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=5073028456858026569&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/5073028456858026569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/5073028456858026569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/06/yet-another-quiz.html' title='Yet another quiz'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-1574680221548165934</id><published>2009-06-02T10:03:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-02T10:20:05.044+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Dare you to move</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For today's post, I thought I'd post the lyrics of a song that I really like a lot. At different points in my life, it has moved me to tears, encouraged me and just generally made me look beyond the point of failure. It's a song called Dare You to Move by Switchfoot. Let me know what you think of the lyrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the planet, Welcome to existence&lt;br /&gt;Everyone's here, Everyone's here&lt;br /&gt;Everybody's watching you now&lt;br /&gt;Everybody waits for you now&lt;br /&gt;What happens next?, What happens next?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dare you to move, I dare you to move &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SiSu0XydsDI/AAAAAAAAAI0/pk73KJZlwww/s1600-h/dejected+01.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342587272730357810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SiSu0XydsDI/AAAAAAAAAI0/pk73KJZlwww/s320/dejected+01.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor&lt;br /&gt;I dare you to move, I dare you to move&lt;br /&gt;Like today never happened, Today never happened before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the fallout, Welcome to resistance&lt;br /&gt;The tension is here, The tension is here&lt;br /&gt;Between who you are and who you could be&lt;br /&gt;Between how it is and how it should be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dare you to move, I dare you to move&lt;br /&gt;I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor&lt;br /&gt;I dare you to move, I dare you to move&lt;br /&gt;Like today never happened, Today never happened before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe redemption has stories to tell&lt;br /&gt;Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell&lt;br /&gt;Where can you run to escape from yourself?&lt;br /&gt;Where you gonna go?  Where you gonna go?&lt;br /&gt;Salvation is here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dare you to move, I dare you to move&lt;br /&gt;I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor&lt;br /&gt;I dare you to move, I dare you to move&lt;br /&gt;Like today never happened, Today never happened before &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-1574680221548165934?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/1574680221548165934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=1574680221548165934&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1574680221548165934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1574680221548165934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/06/dare-you-to-move.html' title='Dare you to move'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SiSu0XydsDI/AAAAAAAAAI0/pk73KJZlwww/s72-c/dejected+01.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-2028218044613020449</id><published>2009-05-20T10:26:00.008+05:30</published><updated>2009-05-20T12:22:07.309+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Looking for love</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ShOOgCsh0fI/AAAAAAAAAIk/O_zJCrz-S08/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As I was speaking to someone just yesterday, some of the things she said just struck me and stayed in my mind. One of those things is everyone’s looking for love. I thought about it and realized that at the end of the day, it all came down to this. Everyone’s looking for love… in some way or the other…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see it in the stretching of the hand of the little girl who comes up to your rickshaw at the signal and begs. She’s looking for love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see it in the eyes of the little kid who looks to his dad when he’s done something he shouldn’t have. He’s looking for love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You observe it in the slump of the shoulders of the girl who’s just been told that she is too tall or dark or fat or thin. She’s looking for love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You hear it in the silent cry of the boy who’s just been told by the love of his life that she doesn’t care for him anymore. He’s looking for love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You feel it in the desperation of someone who’s trying to find solace in alcohol or drugs or contemplating ending their lives. They’re looking for love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You sense it in the insecurity a parent displays when his child has grown up, become independent and gone their way. He's looking for love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You become aware of it in the emptiness she feels after she’s come back home from her highly paying, prestigious, forward moving, career oriented day. She’s looking for love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ShOOxyg8W7I/AAAAAAAAAIs/NmuBRhEIxpA/s1600-h/kic+stone.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337766969388850098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ShOOxyg8W7I/AAAAAAAAAIs/NmuBRhEIxpA/s320/kic+stone.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You notice it in the wanderings of the lonely traveler who tries to fill the big empty void in his life by traveling to various places. He’s looking for love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You find it in the preoccupied and absent minded manner as she goes about preparing food and cleaning the house and waits uncertainly for her husband to come back home. She’s looking for love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You stumble upon it in the aimless way he kicks a stone as he walks on the beach with no idea where he will go from here. He’s looking for love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You detect it in the way she holds herself and stares into nothingness with unseeing eyes. She’s looking for love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call it what you want. Seeking approval, having a sense of worth, earning respect, valuing yourself.. it all comes down to the fact that everyone’s looking for love. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-2028218044613020449?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/2028218044613020449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=2028218044613020449&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/2028218044613020449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/2028218044613020449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/05/looking-for-love.html' title='Looking for love'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ShOOxyg8W7I/AAAAAAAAAIs/NmuBRhEIxpA/s72-c/kic+stone.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-9152928992093285424</id><published>2009-05-15T14:02:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-05-15T14:39:31.174+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Those days and These</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Grrrrrrr……. Another morning of internet failure! And this puts a stop to all of the communication that takes place through email and all of the work that can be done on the internet. I came into the office at 7:30 a.m. (which is very early by any standards) thinking how I would take all this time to look at all my backlog of emails and answer all of them. But I’m stuck in the office with no internet and very limited things that I can do, which brings me to my first question. How did we come to depend so much on the internet?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those were the days when people would come in to work and make notes on a pad of paper with a pen. Or go through huge files to get a small piece of information. These days, ‘paperless’ is the way to go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those were the days when people sent letters and actually wrote them out or typed them on a typewriter instead of desktops and laptops like they use these days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those were the days when people went out to the post office and bought stamps for their letters but these days most people don’t know where the post office for their area is located, leave alone making obsolete the practice of collecting stamps of various shapes and sizes and origins. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artists these days have gone the computer way. Gone are the days when more often than not artists were about drawing, painting, using water colours or other colours. These days it’s about graphics and designs and way over cool stuff that can do shades, effects, play around with the light, etc. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Look at the size of those old phones... They were so big and bulky and noisy.. These days we have tiny cellphones that fit in the palm of our hand, they can show us who is calling and also we can switch it to silent so that it doens't bother other people... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;People had to look up difficult words in a dictionary earlier... but now you can just google anything that enters your mind and you will find many, many links worth of information that comes up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Those days people had to travel for meetings, conferences, etc... These days online meetings, skype meetings, etc. are the norm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright people, thanks for letting me ramble on like this without aim.. I have a meeting that I should be in about 5 minutes... So I shall take your leave and continue to crib about the internet failure till it comes back on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-9152928992093285424?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/9152928992093285424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=9152928992093285424&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/9152928992093285424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/9152928992093285424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/05/those-days-and-these.html' title='Those days and These'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-2534063654323420617</id><published>2009-05-13T14:59:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-05-15T12:50:34.977+05:30</updated><title type='text'>F.R.I.E.N.D.S</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SgqVKnVhUbI/AAAAAAAAAIc/PPTCGQ-Coy4/s1600-h/fr3.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335240718164251058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 69px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 546px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SgqVKnVhUbI/AAAAAAAAAIc/PPTCGQ-Coy4/s320/fr3.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I know I’ve been silent on the blog front for quite some time… It’s just that I’ve been busy and have had no time to blog. But yesterday morning, we had an internet failure. And so I had some time on my hands since most of my work is email based and depends on whether we have internet or not. So here goes…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last few days have been so crazy but I’ve still been able to spend time with some really amazing friends. And through these last few weeks, one thought has constantly been on my mind. I’ve been thankful that God has blessed me with some amazing friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know you have no choice about the family that you are born into (And not that I’m complaining) but friends are actually those family that you get to choose. So how cool is that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve just been touched by the unconditional love and kindness that my friends have offered me whether it is helping me with something, making sure I get to the airport ok, putting me up for a night because I didn’t want to make the long trip back home after a late working night, making sure I’m not alone and bored when I’m in a different city, taking me out for a meal because they think I’m stressed and that I needed to relax for a bit, a phone call just about when I felt like I had to talk to someone or I would go crazy, or checking in on how my day went when they knew I had some difficult things to deal with that day... Oh the list goes on…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those acts of random kindness have touched me, filled me with love and respect for them, taught me to value them even more, made my life easier and have made me feel special, loved and wanted. So at the end of it all, I just want to say – Thank you God for the family you let us choose! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-2534063654323420617?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/2534063654323420617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=2534063654323420617&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/2534063654323420617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/2534063654323420617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/05/friends.html' title='F.R.I.E.N.D.S'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SgqVKnVhUbI/AAAAAAAAAIc/PPTCGQ-Coy4/s72-c/fr3.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-5669377251748551369</id><published>2009-03-27T09:57:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-27T11:07:35.648+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Miles to go before I sleep...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always loved poetry and this is one of my favourite poems from childhood. Especially the last verse kinda represents how I feel most times. A lot of my friends sometimes wonder why I have to keep busy all the time and do so many things but that last verse explains how I feel and why I am running around a lot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/Scxgn-9BY7I/AAAAAAAAAG8/y2GHREAG27U/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/Scxki-nnLVI/AAAAAAAAAHE/H0lIhvI8N0w/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/Scxgn-9BY7I/AAAAAAAAAG8/y2GHREAG27U/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScxlaO1lJ0I/AAAAAAAAAHM/njiab_ABuB8/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;by Robert Frost &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whose woods these are I think I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScxgniNNbnI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Sls3BfUdehk/s1600-h/miles.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317731492331089522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 244px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 324px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScxgniNNbnI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Sls3BfUdehk/s320/miles.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;His house is in the village though;&lt;br /&gt;He will not see me stopping here&lt;br /&gt;To watch his woods fill up with snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little horse must think it queer&lt;br /&gt;To stop without a farmhouse near&lt;br /&gt;Between the woods and frozen lake&lt;br /&gt;The darkest evening of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gives his harness bells a shake&lt;br /&gt;To ask if there is some mistake.&lt;br /&gt;The only other sound's the sweep&lt;br /&gt;Of easy wind and downy flake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woods are lovely, dark and deep.&lt;br /&gt;But I have promises to keep,&lt;br /&gt;And miles to go before I sleep,&lt;br /&gt;And miles to go before I sleep. &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/18071351-5669377251748551369?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/5669377251748551369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=5669377251748551369&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/5669377251748551369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/5669377251748551369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/03/ive-always-loved-poetry-and-this-is-one.html' title='Miles to go before I sleep...'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScxgniNNbnI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Sls3BfUdehk/s72-c/miles.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-8762856808756803051</id><published>2009-03-18T09:31:00.040+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-23T09:05:05.604+05:30</updated><title type='text'>When I was in Sri Lanka</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Alright people, I know this is a bit late... but I thought I'd post it anyways...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I was in Sri Lanka in Dec 2008, I really enjoyed the place, the food &amp;amp; the warm hospitality of the people. I felt like the time I had there was too short. I'm not going to go into great detail, but I'll just post some pictures &amp;amp; explain what they are about.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Place&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScDMd8oYNVI/AAAAAAAAAD8/DUN3rxXFbt0/s1600-h/n835130443_5420003_3795.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314472375160943954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 278px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScDMd8oYNVI/AAAAAAAAAD8/DUN3rxXFbt0/s320/n835130443_5420003_3795.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The place is beautiful!! It is an island country in the Indian Ocean and so the sea is never far away from any place. The waters are clean, blue &amp;amp; gorgeous. The picture on the left is one of Colombo city. Colombo, the capital, is very clean and is almost like an advanced version of some small town in Kerala. The security is high in the city and we got pulled over many times when we were driving around and were asked to produce some sort of id. The locals have gotten used to this and don't blink an eyelid even when they have been pulled over twenty times in a few hours. &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;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScIE8RPsjrI/AAAAAAAAAGs/NUGPu7yuip8/s1600-h/n835130443_5420467_8728.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314815943718506162" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 316px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScIE8RPsjrI/AAAAAAAAAGs/NUGPu7yuip8/s320/n835130443_5420467_8728.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;&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;The picture on the right is taken on the Negombo beach. It was taken during the afternoon time while my cousin &amp;amp; I decided to lie on the grass and just relax. &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;&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;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScDNOPKC8_I/AAAAAAAAAEM/uhtjSuoGDVQ/s1600-h/n835130443_5420481_7309.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314473204767716338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 289px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 226px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScDNOPKC8_I/AAAAAAAAAEM/uhtjSuoGDVQ/s320/n835130443_5420481_7309.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&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;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This one is also of Negombo beach but it is taken from the room. It is the view from our room. We were privileged to get a sea facing one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScDNOPKC8_I/AAAAAAAAAEM/uhtjSuoGDVQ/s1600-h/n835130443_5420481_7309.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScHKVwDcZdI/AAAAAAAAAEU/pcD5pAWgixQ/s1600-h/n835130443_5420480_7105.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314751510299305426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 255px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 172px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScHKVwDcZdI/AAAAAAAAAEU/pcD5pAWgixQ/s320/n835130443_5420480_7105.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This one too is of the same beach. We woke up at 6 a.m. so we could walk by the sea in the morning. We found one man standing on the rocks &amp;amp; trying to fish with a rod &amp;amp; the guy in this picture below is waiting to catch crabs. It was an art. The man would stand perfectly still and look intently at the water. As soon as his extremely alert eyes caught sight of some movement, he would move with amazing speed and grab the crab. All this would happen so quickly that all we could see was the man standing still &amp;amp; then suddenly reaching out and.. viola!! A crab in his hand!!!&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;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScHVZB1curI/AAAAAAAAAEs/_JRzpSuu274/s1600-h/n835130443_5420712_9925.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314763661239958194" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScHVZB1curI/AAAAAAAAAEs/_JRzpSuu274/s320/n835130443_5420712_9925.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScHVNMKPqcI/AAAAAAAAAEk/hAxM8iOmsG0/s1600-h/n835130443_5420710_9476.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314763457853106626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 182px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScHVNMKPqcI/AAAAAAAAAEk/hAxM8iOmsG0/s320/n835130443_5420710_9476.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; The two pictures above were taken when we were driving through the interiors of Sri Lanka. They are from the beautiful place called Nuwareliya (pronounced as Nu-reliya). The picture on the left is of a tea estate and the one on the right is of a fountain called St. Claire's fountain. Sadly, this beautiful fountain is going to be destroyed as they plan to build a dam at this spot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScHYKp45JmI/AAAAAAAAAE0/11GxRuAUysA/s1600-h/n835130443_5420490_5740.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314766712828667490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScHYKp45JmI/AAAAAAAAAE0/11GxRuAUysA/s320/n835130443_5420490_5740.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We visited the Pinnawela Elephant orphanage. This is a place that provides shelter to elephants from all over the country. They also house some of the elephants who have been injured or affected by landmines, explosives, etc. in the war which takes place on a regular basis in the northern part of the country. The elephants are taken daily for a bath and it's quite a sight to see them bonding over water baths and mud baths!&lt;br /&gt;&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;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Food!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ok.. I know some of you are thinking - Will you be done with the places &amp;amp; the scenery &amp;amp; the beaches already?!?! Get to the more interesting part... Sri Lankan cuisine is very similar to the South Indian one and almost like the Tamilian and Keralite food. But somehow it tastes different and that was quite refreshing. I'm drooling and slurping even as I think about it. Sri Lankan food is generally much spicier than most South Indian cuisine, and many spicy Sri Lankan preparations are believed to be among the world's hottest in terms of chilli content. Also, these are some of the dishes that I had the opportunity to have.. But I'm pretty sure that there are many more amazing and tasty dishes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScH5ykT60eI/AAAAAAAAAFs/SYXAzzLFxxk/s1600-h/01.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314803682409894370" style="WIDTH: 248px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 191px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScH5ykT60eI/AAAAAAAAAFs/SYXAzzLFxxk/s320/01.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScH5y0fyorI/AAAAAAAAAF0/nRAOEIIsGe4/s1600-h/02.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314803686754656946" style="WIDTH: 245px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScH5y0fyorI/AAAAAAAAAF0/nRAOEIIsGe4/s320/02.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScH5y7vJRYI/AAAAAAAAAF8/Zq_X54TG0Z8/s1600-h/07+sea+food.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314803688698103170" style="WIDTH: 244px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScH5y7vJRYI/AAAAAAAAAF8/Zq_X54TG0Z8/s320/07+sea+food.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScHh1zGhQ-I/AAAAAAAAAFU/3PxBXXP34gI/s1600-h/03+Pittu.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314777349640766434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScHh1zGhQ-I/AAAAAAAAAFU/3PxBXXP34gI/s320/03+Pittu.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pittu&lt;/strong&gt; - Pittu is a popular and frequently prepared food item among Sri Lankans, both Tamils living in Northern and Eastern parts of Sri lanka as well as Sinhalese living in the rest of the areas of the country. This item is prepared in some parts of South India too. It is made of rice flour &amp;amp; steamed. It is usually served with "Paripu" commonly known as dal here and with a few dry chutneys. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScHmHicu7QI/AAAAAAAAAFc/v1kGSXXDUgw/s1600-h/05+string+hoppers.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314782052454690050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 158px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScHmHicu7QI/AAAAAAAAAFc/v1kGSXXDUgw/s320/05+string+hoppers.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;String Hoppers - &lt;/strong&gt;String hoppers are made from a hot-water dough of rice-meal pressed out in circles. They are steamed, light and lacy . String hoppers make a mouthwatering meal with curry and sambar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScH4zDXQcXI/AAAAAAAAAFk/fqo_W_YMu8g/s1600-h/04+Kiribath+milk+rice.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314802591233765746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScH4zDXQcXI/AAAAAAAAAFk/fqo_W_YMu8g/s320/04+Kiribath+milk+rice.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kiribath - &lt;/strong&gt;Kiribath, one of the very popular foods in simple words means ‘milk rice’ . The rice is cooked in thick coconut cream and is accompanied by a sharp chilli chutney or with a pre cooked mixture of some kind of coconut chutney. Of course there are the usual dosas, vadas, idlis and all those kind of dishes which most people need no introduction to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;They have a wide variety of sea food as well. And again that needs no introduction. So I'll just let the pictures do the talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScH9pFYgYrI/AAAAAAAAAGE/vgfz-J7wsUM/s1600-h/06+fish+curry.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314807917535322802" style="WIDTH: 271px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 189px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScH9pFYgYrI/AAAAAAAAAGE/vgfz-J7wsUM/s320/06+fish+curry.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScH9pUwjA2I/AAAAAAAAAGM/QzFezxnoYrM/s1600-h/08+crab+curry.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314807921662690146" style="WIDTH: 247px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 190px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScH9pUwjA2I/AAAAAAAAAGM/QzFezxnoYrM/s320/08+crab+curry.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fish in Green Sauce &amp;amp; Crab Curry&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314807922045546466" style="WIDTH: 317px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 264px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScH9pWL07-I/AAAAAAAAAGU/ppQ2W_8OQHw/s320/09+red+shrimp+curry.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Red Shrimp Curry with Rice&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;People&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The people of Sri Lanka are very warm &amp;amp; hospitable. They of course look very much like Indians yet they have features that set them apart. They are majorly divided into Tamils &amp;amp; Sinhalese. They mostly follow Buddhism or Christianity. There is a small percentage of them that are Hindus &amp;amp; Muslims as well. It is very common to see couples where one of them is a Buddhist while the other is a Christian. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScIBlQ7C64I/AAAAAAAAAGc/hTsfFWFatQU/s1600-h/n835130443_5420279_604.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314812249960016770" style="WIDTH: 352px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 185px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScIBlQ7C64I/AAAAAAAAAGc/hTsfFWFatQU/s320/n835130443_5420279_604.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The couple that hosted us - Yasas &amp;amp; Trilicia with me &amp;amp; my cousin&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScIBlWGa6QI/AAAAAAAAAGk/PZ51Oz7liN4/s1600-h/n835130443_5420569_6113.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314812251349903618" style="WIDTH: 196px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScIBlWGa6QI/AAAAAAAAAGk/PZ51Oz7liN4/s320/n835130443_5420569_6113.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;With my Sri Lankan friends &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have much more to write about my time in Sri Lanka but I will keep that for some other time lest you decide that it is ok not to come to my blog for a very, very long time. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&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/18071351-8762856808756803051?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/8762856808756803051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=8762856808756803051&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/8762856808756803051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/8762856808756803051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/03/when-i-was-in-sri-lanka.html' title='When I was in Sri Lanka'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/ScDMd8oYNVI/AAAAAAAAAD8/DUN3rxXFbt0/s72-c/n835130443_5420003_3795.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-3789076180476569628</id><published>2009-03-09T15:44:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-10T08:26:52.328+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Hugs? Love them!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SbTtVw1NPWI/AAAAAAAAADc/_kjquZ9BKk0/s1600-h/hug+01.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311130818717760866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 155px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SbTtVw1NPWI/AAAAAAAAADc/_kjquZ9BKk0/s320/hug+01.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The other day I was meeting a friend’s pastor who I’ve known for some time. He greeted me with a warm smile and a hug and said, “Our church is a hugging church. We hug people.” I smiled and hugged back and we went on to sit down, have a meal, talk and generally proceed with the afternoon. But on my way back home, I kept thinking about hugs and generally how much of a difference they made and how much I loved hugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A hug is usually the most common sign of love, affection, &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SbTuATZp3SI/AAAAAAAAADk/ptb3UvR5wq4/s1600-h/hug+02.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311131549551942946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 283px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 161px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SbTuATZp3SI/AAAAAAAAADk/ptb3UvR5wq4/s320/hug+02.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;intimacy, understanding, support, comfort, emotional warmth, joy, sharing a feeling, etc. It crosses boundaries between nations, cultures, religions, families, ages, gender and brings people closer to each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaching out and touching someone, and holding him or her tight is a way of saying you care. Its effects are immediate - the hugger and the person being hugged feel good. It also creates a special bond between them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SbTvuxIb4GI/AAAAAAAAADs/A6NIGKDuXS8/s1600-h/hug+05.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311133447318397026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SbTvuxIb4GI/AAAAAAAAADs/A6NIGKDuXS8/s320/hug+05.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Group hugs are fun too! When a group of friends are sharing an emotion be it joy, sadness or showing support or even just sharing a joke, a group hug joins them in a wonderful bond and makes them record those few moments forever in their memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so sad to see that these days with the fast life; people are becoming averse to touch. I wish there was more hugging between parents &amp;amp; children, between friends, between relatives.. It definitely brings people closer. I can’t believe how some cultures encourage joining of hands and touching of feet as forms of greeting between close relatives. To me, these are just ways that are designed to keep distance between people and to keep their relationship at a very superficial level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loads of people who are not used to physical contact with others find hugs awkward and embarrassing at first. But they are bound to feel good about it afterwards. You ask me how I know? Well I used to be one of those embarrassed creatures till I discovered the joys of hugging and being hugged. So go ahead people.. Don’t be afraid to hug someone. It only takes a hug, a heartfelt and warm embrace, to touch the lives of others and may be even change it! Try it, it works!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311135495104013826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SbTxl9ukpgI/AAAAAAAAAD0/TTsYDY5L61A/s320/hug+06.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-3789076180476569628?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/3789076180476569628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=3789076180476569628&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/3789076180476569628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/3789076180476569628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/03/hugs-love-them.html' title='Hugs? Love them!'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SbTtVw1NPWI/AAAAAAAAADc/_kjquZ9BKk0/s72-c/hug+01.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-1172801215219730804</id><published>2009-03-03T08:50:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-05T08:44:37.379+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Hello World, This is me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/Sa9BnK7wwMI/AAAAAAAAAB8/YElfAt1Ifkk/s1600-h/iphone.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309534626898821314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 194px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/Sa9BnK7wwMI/AAAAAAAAAB8/YElfAt1Ifkk/s320/iphone.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/Saym7E-MuYI/AAAAAAAAAB0/vL_kvxc4JNk/s1600-h/hug+01.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I AM : A moody, sensitive, practical yet dreamy, quiet a lot but sometimes extremely hyper, musically inclined, chocolate loving, attention hating, nocturnally active person!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I THINK : All the time! Sometimes it gets too much…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WANT : An iPhone and a really good camera!!!! So badly…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HAVE: A tendency to get totally involved in whatever I’m doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WISH : Life was simple instead of the mess of contradictions it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HATE : When people are rude, insensitive, crass and thoughtless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I MISS : School times which were the most innocent &amp;amp; the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I FEAR : That everything will become automated in this world and people will start forgetting about the human factor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I FEEL : Mellow, sleepy &amp;amp; a bit slow this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HEAR : One of my colleagues singing the national anthem right now and the other typing very noisily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CRAVE : Chocolates &amp;amp; Ice creams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I SEARCH : For my inner self to be at peace with God at all times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I REGRET : trusting the wrong people in the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE : Beaches, the sea, water, the outdoors, crazy sporty activities, my beautiful city Mumbai…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CARE : About my immediate family and my dear, lovely, beautiful, amazing friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM NOT : Afraid of hard work or challenges&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I BELIEVE : In the law of balances, that what goes around comes around and those who live by the sword die by the sword&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I DANCE : In my head all the time… :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I SING : Mostly along with music that I’m listening to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CRY : At times when usually no one can notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I FIGHT : Not much anymore but earlier a lot with my brother and with people who bully those who are weaker than them. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/Sa9DZamw6rI/AAAAAAAAACE/TT7EIgze7Kc/s1600-h/date.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309536589610805938" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/Sa9DZamw6rI/AAAAAAAAACE/TT7EIgze7Kc/s320/date.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOSE : Track of dates sometimes when I get busy and bits of papers on which people’s contact info has been scribbled in a hurry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I NEVER : Wear yellow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ALWAYS : Read a little before falling asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CONFUSE : My different passwords for different ids sometimes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LISTEN : To friends talking, music, the sound of waves, silence around me, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CAN USUALLY BE FOUND : In Bandra!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM SCARED : Giving in to pressure, displeasing people by saying ‘NO’ even when it’s ok to..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM HAPPY ABOUT : The place I am in life right now… It’s the best place to be. Thank you God!&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/18071351-1172801215219730804?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/1172801215219730804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=1172801215219730804&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1172801215219730804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1172801215219730804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/03/hello-world-this-is-me.html' title='Hello World, This is me!'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/Sa9BnK7wwMI/AAAAAAAAAB8/YElfAt1Ifkk/s72-c/iphone.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-584620197361190383</id><published>2009-02-25T10:21:00.008+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-25T11:50:25.407+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Shall We Dance?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SaTPT0hcO2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/33Rz9j-h-Z8/s1600-h/swd+04.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306594200372656994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 335px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SaTPT0hcO2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/33Rz9j-h-Z8/s320/swd+04.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I watched a few movies in the last couple of days. ‘Shall We dance?’ featuring Richard Gere, Jennifer Lopez and Susan Sarandon has gotten stuck in my head. The reason for this is for the past year or so I’ve been very keen on learning dance and about dance. So even though this was not the first time I was watching the movie, I was gripped and was watching out for all the cool dance moves. Even the expressions on the dancers faces were quite interesting to watch as they got completely involved in the dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dance is the wedding of movement to music. It spans from &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SaTQYEpqZvI/AAAAAAAAABE/cbwNrRMeKNg/s1600-h/dance04.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306595372933211890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 219px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 343px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SaTQYEpqZvI/AAAAAAAAABE/cbwNrRMeKNg/s320/dance04.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;forms of expression to social interaction to even expressions of worship in a spiritual setting. And though its origins are lost in prehistoric times, from the study of the most primitive people, it is known that men and women have always danced!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Dance can be participatory, social or performed for an audience. It can also be ceremonial, competitive or erotic. Dance movements may be without significance like in ballet or European folk dances or have a gestural vocabulary/symbolic system as in many Asian dances. Dance can embody or express ideas, emotions or tell a story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SaTRj7jgnkI/AAAAAAAAABM/pahABLtuEZ8/s1600-h/waltz.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306596676161543746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 223px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 284px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SaTRj7jgnkI/AAAAAAAAABM/pahABLtuEZ8/s320/waltz.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dancing has evolved many styles. Break dancing and Krumping are related to the hip hop culture. African dance is interpretive. Ballet, Ballroom, Waltz, and Tango are classical styles of dance while Square and the Electric Slide are forms of step dances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of these dances grew more popular than the waltz, which was first introduced to the Austrian court in the 17th century. Its gliding, whirling movements immediately became the rage throughout the entire population.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SaTSW1Bj_HI/AAAAAAAAABU/zLXxz8boaIM/s1600-h/tango.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306597550581873778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 275px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SaTSW1Bj_HI/AAAAAAAAABU/zLXxz8boaIM/s320/tango.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;From South America came the tango. African and Caribbean rhythms and movements increasingly influenced social dancing. Swing, the jitterbug, the twist, boogie, and disco dancing all share a free and improvised movement style and a repetitive, percussive rhythm that can be traced to more primitive sources. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Another important influence was felt from Ireland, whose clog dances were first brought to America in the 1840s. After being adapted by local performers, clog dance steps became the tap dances. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306603591922902834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 159px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 190px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SaTX2exgZzI/AAAAAAAAABc/-bZ-EknfYuk/s320/jlrg.bmp" border="0" /&gt;Salsa is a dance created by Spanish-speaking people from the Caribbean and their immigrant communities in the US. Salsa dancing mixes African and European dance influences through the music and dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Folk dancing preserved its own identity as these popular dances developed. By folk dance is meant a dance that originated in a particular country or locality and has become closely identified with its nation of origin. The czardas, for example, is unmistakably Hungarian, and the hora is linked to Israel. These dances are often performed by dedicated groups of amateurs who want either to preserve the dance tradition of their ancestors or to share in another country's culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;These days with the freedom of expression, you don't even need any structure or time or format to dance. People dance when they're happy, when they like the music, when they want to impress someone, when they want to perform... So.. What are you waiting for, people? Put on those dancing shoes, Feel the music run through your veins, put your thoughts &amp;amp; expressions into movement and dance like no one's watching!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306604585474090434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SaTYwUCkZcI/AAAAAAAAABk/L9ge0tQmfyU/s320/dance03.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-584620197361190383?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/584620197361190383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=584620197361190383&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/584620197361190383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/584620197361190383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/02/shall-we-dance.html' title='Shall We Dance?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SaTPT0hcO2I/AAAAAAAAAA8/33Rz9j-h-Z8/s72-c/swd+04.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-285914559945716745</id><published>2009-02-13T11:58:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-17T10:49:46.342+05:30</updated><title type='text'>House of Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So if I had a House of fun, it would go like this..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pick 8 random friends you feel comfortable around. (including yourself)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ann, Chris, Jess, Joel, Rob, Ryan, Shru &amp;amp; me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;These eight people you just picked are stuck in a house with you for a whole year. There is no leaving the house at all until the year is completely up. If you had to choose a person for every question below, write down which person it would be.There are four rooms, who would be in each&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Room 1: Rob &amp;amp; Ann (how convenient as they are married now!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Room 2: Shru &amp;amp; Me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Room 3: Chris (Chotu) &amp;amp; Ryan (hahaha - I might have to protect Chotu from Ryan periodically )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Room4: Jess &amp;amp; Joel (oh even more hahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If there was someone singing in the morning who would it most likely be?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Oh I can't imagine anyone of us being much of a morning person enough to sing but Ann might hum sometimes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If someone was considered the parents of the house, who would it be?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ann and me I think...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If you wanted candy really badly and all of the 7 in the house had some, who would you take it from?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Jess (since he doesn't like chocolate so much) though Chotu comes a close second cos it's such fun to take edible stuff from him!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If two people were caught making out in a closet who would it be?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Not even going to go there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If someone had to watch you brush your teeth (every) morning, who would it be?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I guess that would be Shru since I would be sharing rooms with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There were two bags of chips bought at the store, but 20 minutes later they are gone. Who ate them?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Too many candidates for this one.. but I'm guessing it would be a tie between Chotu &amp;amp; Ryan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who would hate being in the house the most ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Joel.. cos he likes to brood around on his own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Someone swept all the dirt under the rug, who was it?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Did someone actually dare to do that!??!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If there was arguments in the house, who would be the ones arguing? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Jess &amp;amp; I over some thoughtless deed that he had committed... lol!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who would be the one missing their boyfriend/girlfriend that wasn’t in the house with them?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I would've said Rob/Ann's name for this if they weren't married already...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You walked down stairs in the middle of the night for a glass of water, someone is dancing on the table, who is the crazy one?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Shru is the one with crazy streak in her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A pillow fight broke through, who started it?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Rob.. He would start a pillow fight and then combine it with a tickle-fest and top it off with sticking his finger in everyone's ears!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There's a marathon of your favorite tv show, what is it? And who would be watching it with you?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;F.R.I.E.N.D.S and all of us except Joel would be watching it. In fact, he would sit apart from us and grimace and pass comments about how it's all such a waste of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Someone made a fort in the laundry room, who was the kid? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Chotu..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There’s a prankster in the house that put plastic on the two toilets in the house, who are the pranksters?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Rob &amp;amp; Chotu! They would pull the prank and also catch it on video..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The music is too loud, who turned it up?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Jess.. He's listening to Blink 182 again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There's a mouse crawling on the floor all over the house&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a) who is the first one to scream?&lt;/strong&gt; Shru&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;b) and who is the one to jump is someones arms?&lt;/strong&gt; Jess into Ryan's/Rob's arms.. whoever is closer. He just needs an excuse..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who would be the one to kill it?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Joel... He's experienced at this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Someone's crying, who is it and what happened?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Joel and Jess! Joel because there is some pressing problem on his mind and he can't make up his mind who to share it with and Jess because he's just watched an animated movie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who made pancakes in the morning and almost caught the house on fire?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ann.. She's in the most experimental mood these days where cooking is concerned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Someone's tanning on the roof who is it?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Definitely not Ann and me :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who is the tallest in the house?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Rob &amp;amp; Ryan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who is the shortest in the house?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Chotu and me... but mostly Chotu.. lol!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who is the loudest?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Shru&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who is the clown?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Shru &amp;amp; Chotu - They have the largest collection of funny faces I've ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who is the most respectful?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Joel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who is the one you go to talk to the most?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ann and Chotu I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who is the one that always comes up with stupid ideas?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Jess and then he drags everyone else down with him!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who's in bed first?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Chotu. He's more comfortable in a horizontal position than a vertical one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If someone woke everyone up with pots and pans who would it be?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Chotu &amp;amp; Ryan - They would be rummaging around and looking for something to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who is always dancing?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ann (dancing as in skipping around and other dancing as well)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You spilt ice all over the kitchen floor, who would be the one to slip on it first?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ryan (He once kept his elbow in his plate and didn't realize it for quite some time...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-285914559945716745?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/285914559945716745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=285914559945716745&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/285914559945716745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/285914559945716745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/02/house-of-fun.html' title='House of Fun'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-8852745754347993599</id><published>2009-02-09T14:39:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-10T09:06:24.121+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Random things</title><content type='html'>Since there is this whole 'random things about me' fever going on, I thought I'd post mine here rather on FB.. Also these are only some of those things.. The rest are for me to know and for you to find out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I've always had a deep love for music. I inherited it from my dad. He used to wake me up from my nap time with music when I was a kid.&lt;br /&gt;2. I am an extreme introvert and also very moody. (Most of my friends will be nodding their heads here like crazy!)&lt;br /&gt;3. I never learnt how to ride a bike though I helped my brother learn it when we were kids.&lt;br /&gt;4. Growing up I wanted to be a teacher, pilot, banker, fashion designer, someone world famous(didn't matter what I was doing), a highly successful corporate office person at different points in my life. Ha! God had other plans :) But you know what.. I'm happy.&lt;br /&gt;5. I have a love hate relationship with my cell phone. I hate making or answering calls (except from a few people) but at the same time I love getting or sending text messages (not forwards though..)&lt;br /&gt;6. For a period when I was in my teens, I had this "blue" phase and I only wore blue. My parents and friends got a bit sick of seeing me in blue.&lt;br /&gt;7. I love traveling and though I've seen a few places as of now, I would love to travel to every country in the world some day.&lt;br /&gt;8. I have very few friends and they are all very precious to me. I love and adore them and enjoy spending time with them.&lt;br /&gt;9. I studied in an all girls convent school and I absolutely loved all the great fun we had!&lt;br /&gt;10. I love anything to do with heights, flying or speed.&lt;br /&gt;11. I've always loved kids and the whole idea of being a mother right from when I was a kid myself.&lt;br /&gt;12. I used to be such a slow eater. It sometimes used to take me more than an hour to finish a meal. Now I'm usually the quickest in a group.&lt;br /&gt;13. I'm a beach/water person. Even just looking at any water body calms me down and I could sit and stare at the sea all day if no one interrupted me or if I didn't have other things to do.&lt;br /&gt;14. I used to hate and avoid confrontation like the plague... now I just hate it!&lt;br /&gt;15. I love seafood so much that my dad used to tease me saying that he would make sure I married a fisherman so I could have sea food for the rest of my life&lt;br /&gt;16. Every morning when I get on the train to work, after the first few minutes I'm so lost in thought that I lose track of distance covered till I've almost reached the train station that I have to get off at!&lt;br /&gt;17. I truly believe in the law of balances and also what goes around comes around.&lt;br /&gt;18. I also believe that life is too short to spend too much time on getting mad or staying mad at those you love.&lt;br /&gt;19. I once climbed a mountain when it was rainy and slippery and I was barefeet (long story..)&lt;br /&gt;20. I used to hate 'mugging' or 'learning by heart' with such a vengeance that I used to make up my own definitions in Science instead of learning the ones that were given to us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-8852745754347993599?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/8852745754347993599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=8852745754347993599&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/8852745754347993599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/8852745754347993599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/02/random-things.html' title='Random things'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-2019212621936316977</id><published>2009-02-03T08:57:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-19T17:46:11.329+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Potpourri</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SYe6MOjp_oI/AAAAAAAAAAs/xtMEyLJ1JwY/s1600-h/potpourri.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298408205853523586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SYe6MOjp_oI/AAAAAAAAAAs/xtMEyLJ1JwY/s320/potpourri.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;What is it that makes me feel incomplete? I don’t know what I’m looking for. But sometimes there is this deep restlessness that wells up within me… from the depths of my soul. I feel there is this big struggle between me… between my spiritual side and my worldly side, between the practical and the impulsive, between the organized and the creative, between reality and dreams.. There is so much going on inside of me that I can’t even put a name to. What is it called? I’ve never been articulate any which ways. So I feel like this potpourri of everything going on around me is inside of me… I feel soulful, melancholic, ecstatic, exuberant, energetic, vibrant, sad, happy and every other possible thing all at the same time sometimes. I know you’re going to say – but that’s ridiculous and impossible! But it’s true. That’s what I feel a lot of times. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-2019212621936316977?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/2019212621936316977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=2019212621936316977&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/2019212621936316977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/2019212621936316977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/02/potpourri.html' title='Potpourri'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SYe6MOjp_oI/AAAAAAAAAAs/xtMEyLJ1JwY/s72-c/potpourri.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-3846642082409240664</id><published>2009-01-09T11:02:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-09T11:25:49.192+05:30</updated><title type='text'>What stops me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;One thing that has proven thought provoking is the character of God. He is generous, giving, tender, kind, compassionate, loving, beautiful, brave, always present, patient, slow to anger, glorious, powerful, gracious and many more things which words are not enough to describe.. Sometimes I feel like there are no words formed yet in our earthly languages to describe Him. And when I compare myself to Him, I feel like crawling into a hole in the earth and staying there. It’s appalling how not like Him I am! And it makes me want to be more like Him, makes me want to give something back for all the wonderful things He has done for me and the beauty He has filled my life with. I feel like worshipping Him, giving everything I have to Him (Be it time, money, effort, education, work, myself..), do things for Him.. But what stops me? I realize that so often I am the one who is the biggest hindrance to His good plans for me. I let my thoughts lead me away.. I let my time be occupied by other things.. I let myself spend on unnecessary things.. I lie to myself that other things are important... More important than spending time with Him, more important than the only thing that matters and that is loving and worshipping Him. I worry about my own image in front of others but fail to consider what God must think of me as He sees me running amok. Because I know that He sees me just as I am and not as I portray myself to others. And I don’t understand why I do this despite the fact that every time I spend time with Him worshipping and praising and talking with Him I love and enjoy it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-3846642082409240664?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/3846642082409240664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=3846642082409240664&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/3846642082409240664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/3846642082409240664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-stops-me.html' title='What stops me?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-4361485265632404994</id><published>2009-01-05T13:23:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-05T14:02:50.142+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Everything recovered</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I was reading 1 Samuel 30 this morning. It was something that I've read many times before. But this time something different struck me... For reasons of time and space, I will copy just a part of the passage. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;17 David fought them from dusk until the evening of the next day, and none of them got away, except four hundred young men who rode off on camels and fled. 18 David recovered everything the Amalekites had taken, including his two wives. 19 Nothing was missing: young or old, boy or girl, plunder or anything else they had taken. David brought everything back. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;The background to this is that the Amalekites had raided an area in which David's people were staying. They had had taken captive the women and all who were in it, both young and old. They killed none of them, but carried them off as they went on their way.  David's two wives had been captured and he was greatly distressed because the men were talking of stoning him; each one was bitter in spirit because of his sons and daughters. But David found strength in the LORD his God. After asking God what the right thing was to do, he pursued the Amalekites and fought them to recover everything that was stolen. This passage made me think of two things. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;One was what it would be like to be a person living in those times. Suppose, I was a lady of those times. Just imagine the horror of being taken captive.. The insecurity and instability of that life.. The anguish that I might never see my children again... The despair at my home being ransacked and possessions being plundered... There might be things I would want to save like a favourite bracelet given by someone dear or a diary in which I've written secret things or a small pocket in which I have a stash of money.. and just imagine the helplessness of all of that being taken away and there is nothing I can do about it... It really made me think what the women of those days had to go through.. And yet they led such amazing lives and followed God and the leaders that God appointed for them. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;The second thing that jumped out at me was that David recovered EVERYTHING. How amazing is that?!?! Verse 19 says NOTHING was missing. David brought everything back. That means EVERYTHING!!!! Every little bracelet, every scrap of cloth, every child, every bit of possession that was taken was brought back. How great is our God who knows and cares for the littlest of things... The things that are important to us are also important to God. He cares for us so much that though something might seem small to others, it's not too small for God!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-4361485265632404994?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/4361485265632404994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=4361485265632404994&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4361485265632404994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4361485265632404994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/01/everything-recovered.html' title='Everything recovered'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-1323623859762348458</id><published>2009-01-05T09:47:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-05T12:49:45.540+05:30</updated><title type='text'>December Diary</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'm back after a short vacation! So I thought I'd do a December Diary.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dec 06, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Rob and Ann got married! It was such a wonderful wedding and we all had a blast. It more than met all the expectations that started ever since preparations and countdowns began a few months ago. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dec 20, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We had the youth fest program in church. After days and days of practice, pretty much most of everything went as it was supposed to go. We were tired but glad that it went off well. After the program, it was good fun hanging out with the gang and taking silly pictures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dec 21, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'd been looking forward to this break ever since my cousin, Sujatha, and I started planning for this  in April 2008. After the service, I headed to airport. I was really thrilled that Rob and Ann came with me to the airport. Felt like they were spoiling me and I like being spoilt once in a while. Landed in Bangalore and had my cousins waiting on the other end along with my sis-in-law and my neice. Was great to see them after almost 8 months. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dec 23, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Met with Mano after 4 years. Was nice to see him and also get to know his wife a bit. Jeff came to pick me up and then spent the evening and the night at their place. Was nice to spend time with Jeff, Andy and Nick. After we watched a movie, Andy and I stayed up talking till late in the night... Was a good time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dec 25, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We had a really peaceful and nice Christmas and then in the evening we left for Sri Lanka. Even though Suj and I spend time every year, we'd never really done a trip together. So the planning began from April 2008 for all the details like number of days, accommodation facilities, flight bookings, etc... Emails flew back and forth all over the place and by June we had everything set.  Trili and Yasas, Tehani's friends willingly offered to host us. They were so kind and let us use their apartment in Mt. Lavinia while they stayed at her parent's.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dec 26, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sri Lanka amazed me. It was much better than what I expected. We'd landed in Colombo, the capital of SL. Colombo, just like Mumbai, is right on the west coast and hence had a similar climate except that during the day time, the sun got burning hot. The city was really nice and clean and the people had amazing traffic sense. We enjoyed a few rides alongside the sea.. as well as got some shopping done. Was really lovely and a good change from the craziness in Mumbai. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Prashani's wedding was in Colombo as well and I got to see how a Sri Lankan wedding was done. It was very similar to the way South-Indian Christian weddings are done except for a few SL traditions.  But the reception was very Mumbai style with a live band doing the music, the sisters and cousins of the bride putting up some songs and stuff for the couple and all the while, the dance floor was open and people were dancing very energetically. They even finished it with the Bombay masala (the mix of all songs which includes 'come to bombay, bombay meri hain',  'he pori kanyachi', etc..)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dec 27, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;From Colombo, we went to the beach in Negombo.. And we spent a day there. We arrived in the afternoon... Had an amazing lunch with loads and loads of sea food (Rob, I know you will drool when you read this!) Tehani joined us for a bit and that was nice but she had to leave too soon. Suj and I lay on the grass for a very long time till it got quite dark. We then had dinner and horsed around in our room. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dec 28, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Suj and I woke at 6 so we could walk by the beach. We had a great time fooling around and playing in the water... The beach was clean and the water was lovely... just the right temperature. After breakfast, Trili and Yasas, drove us to Kandy. The views were beautiful and the greenery reminded us of Kerala.  On the way, we went to the Pinnewala Elephant orphanage. It was amazing to see the number of elephants in one place. The baby elephants looked really cute. I couldn't say the same about the big ones though! We stopped at Yasas' parental house. It was nice to meet his family. His mum impressed us with her command of English. She spoke it so beautifully.  We stayed at a resort that night and experienced what is called the 'lazy and luxurious' life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dec 29, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We woke up and had a lazy morning. Then drove down to Nuwara Eliya (pronounced as Newreliya) which is a hill station. The weather was lovely and we visited a tea factory there as well. It was interesting to see the whole procedure of how tea is made. After that, we had a really long drive back to have dinner at Trili's parents place. It was nice to meet her family. We then went to their apartment in Mt. Lavinia and spent a long time talking and all that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dec 30, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My cousin Terry was so paranoid that we would miss our flight, that he woke us at 3 a.m. which meant that we were ready very early and were then just sitting around doing nothing. We continued chatting with Trili and Yasas and promised to keep in touch and... We flew back to Bangalore and my cousins hung out with me at the airport till it was time for me to check in for my flight to Mumbai.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It was a really nice and peaceful ending to a lovely holiday.. That too my first time outside of India. Was great..  And I was so thankful to God for making everything (accommodation, flight, events, travel, etc) work out at the perfect time and in the perfect way... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dec 31, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;New Year's Eve was special and amazing. Started off with us in church. And after the service, we hung out and took loads of silly pictures (which will soon be up on &lt;a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://jessealex.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;http://jessealex.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;) It was really nice to spend New Year's with the people we loved the best and that brought to close the month of December for me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-1323623859762348458?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/1323623859762348458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=1323623859762348458&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1323623859762348458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1323623859762348458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2009/01/december-diary.html' title='December Diary'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-4115447263433566631</id><published>2008-12-15T11:16:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-12-17T11:36:27.570+05:30</updated><title type='text'>I'm so tired!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Ok... So I'm only human.. I've been feeling so tired and I have no idea when my eyes are going to shut and I'm going to slip into lala land. What, you ask, have I been up to?&lt;br /&gt;Hmm... Let's see. I think I've been on the go non-stop for the past couple of months and now I just want to hit pause on everything. Let me give you a small slice of my life (4 days) as it has been for the past some time&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thursday - Dec 11, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wake up at 6 and I'm ready to give anything to be able to get an extra 15 minutes of sleep. But it doesn't work out like that and I force myself out of bed. An hour later, I'm on the train to work. Yet, another hour later, I'm sitting in front my computer at work and asking my brain to please be creative so that I could make the newsletter look great. My brain refuses to work but my hands keep going so the newsletter has content but the creativity... now that something that's remains to be seen. Oh and I'm so annoyed that the rickshaw driver tried to cheat a colleague of Rs. 6. As soon as work is over, I rush over to meet a friend who is going to travel home with me. We go to the seamstress and she as usual hasn't completed her work. Again ended up being a bit annoyed! When we go back more than an hour later, she still hasn't completed her work. Grrrrrrrrr!!!! So I leave for the skit/drama rehearsals. It is exhausting as it's not easy to make 15-18 people do something for the first time and especially when they come unprepared. I get back really late, check my emails, flop on the bed and I'm asleep before I know it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friday - Dec 12, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Wake up at 5:30 a.m. I ask myself if I could get out of shampooing my hair to gain some extra sleep but then my conscience/inner voice/reasonable side.. whatever you want to call it does not allow me to. So I get out of bed and then have a whirlwind of a day of which I can't remember most of it. I remember a hair appointment, meeting a couple of friends, an unucessful visit to the seamstress, coming home around 10 and checking my emails... a book in my hand and don't know when I fall asleep. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saturday - Dec 13, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up at 4 a.m. Oh joy! Saturday morning!!! I can sleep more... and so I go back to sleep and only wake up at 11:30 when a friend-colleague called. So I'm in bed on a Saturday morning and taking and making work-related calls. I guess that's better any day then waking up at 6 and being in the office before 8. So I get to church by 2:30 p.m. and I'm there till almost 9 p.m. as we have various kinds of rehearsals and I'm coordinating it. Weekend is shot down!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunday - Dec 14, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I'm exhausted! Even before I wake up, even before I get off my bed, I'm exhausted! I lie in bed and contemplate how much time I have before I really have to get off the bed and "start" my day. I figure I don't have much time so I get on with getting ready and heading to church. As I walk in, I'm literally fighting sleep to keep my eyes open. Church is great as always but guess what?? after church we have to interact with people. I couldn't do it... not even if I tried... not in the state I was in. So I just sit quietly and Ashu very kindly decides to drop me home. I'm so grateful. I have lunch and come right back for rehearsals. I have no more energy left. After we are done, I get home and go through some stuff that needs organizing before I leave next week for my vacation (eyes brighten at the thought of the vacation!) Sam calls and insists we should meet as I will go off next week. So I go and meet Sam and Aku and we have a nice time. But of course my mind is still on the rehearsals and so they decide to accompany me to the rehearsals. We get done quite late and get home almost at 11:00 p.m. Aaaaarrrrrrrrghhhhhhhh! My weekend is officially over. I come home, check emails, chat a bit with Sam and then go to bed!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monday - Dec 15, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I wake up at 06:15. Darn! I'm already running a bit late... But I'm still contemplating sleeping a little more... Hmm... inner voice is not letting this happen. I'm going to whack it black and blue one day! I groan and heave myself off the bed.. And an hour later am on my way to work.. Yet an hour later I'm in the office and in front of my computer!!!! I'm so tired and having a hard time keeping my eyes open... And the only thing that's keeping me going is that at this time next week, I will be on my vacation!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Alright... I'm really sorry to put you guys through this... but I needed to do something to keep me awake.. And it's back to business now!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-4115447263433566631?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/4115447263433566631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=4115447263433566631&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4115447263433566631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4115447263433566631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2008/12/im-so-tired.html' title='I&apos;m so tired!'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-7302150258477966614</id><published>2008-12-03T16:23:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-19T17:50:01.519+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Tribute to my friends from school time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Karen and Bineeta, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear wonderful and beautiful ladies! I’m so glad that you have been and still are a part of my life today. We’ve seen each other grow from girls in blue uniforms and pig tails in red ribbons to teenagers holding our place in a fast and ever changing world to the ladies we now are who hold our own in professional circles. And I’m glad we’ve been there for each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SZzQGah1_nI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Z3oPMHrHDuE/s1600-h/16122008327.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304343269754666610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SZzQGah1_nI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Z3oPMHrHDuE/s320/16122008327.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Do you remember how inseparable we were? In fact, so inseparable that we actually plotted to get my seat changed from the blue house to the yellow house so I could sit with both of you. During class, we wrote notes to each other all the time in each other's text book so that teachers would think we were writing explanations and meanings. We literally spent every moment of school together and yet when we got home, the first thing we would do was reach for the phone and call each other up. Binny, do you remember how one night we spent more than 4 hours talking on the phone and discussing various issues ranging from serious to silly? We were supposed to get some studying done but apparently there were more important things for us at that time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was not able to go with you to the most happening event of the year – the Mahabaleshwar picnic! I remember how much you girls pleaded with my parents but nothing worked. We were so disappointed! BUT both of you came back with tons of pictures and took the time to actually tell me the story behind each and every picture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember that 2 day retreat when we stayed over in school? And that Brother Glen who we renamed as Father Gilligan (from one of our English poetries)? We stayed up till 3:30 and talked and of course Karen had to fall asleep because nothing and nothing could take her away from her beauty sleep… not tests, not events, not exams, not prelims, not board exams, nothing! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember the agonizing we went through when we realized that our time in school was almost coming to an end, the decisions we took to always stay in touch, the options we looked at so we could stay together in college, the farewell dramas (Binny, I can’t believe Karen and I didn’t cry!!!), how we hung out together on the day of the results, the lunches and get together we’ve had since then through college and our working lives, the times we’ve laughed and the times we’ve gotten depressed together, the plans of marriage and plans of tackling singlehood…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for being such amazing friends! You girls taught me about real friendship that stands the test of time and also to take the first step towards learning what intimacy is in friendship. I have so many happy memories of school because of the time we spent together and it truly gave me courage to go out into the “big bad” world of college. Thanks for sticking by me and for staying in touch right through college and even through all the difficulties and pressure of starting a career.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope and pray that we can continue to be friends and that like always we will never have to think twice about picking up the phone and giving each other a call just to share something or ask for help or just to even talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you both my darlings!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-7302150258477966614?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/7302150258477966614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=7302150258477966614&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/7302150258477966614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/7302150258477966614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2008/12/tribute-to-my-friends-from-school-time.html' title='Tribute to my friends from school time'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/SZzQGah1_nI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Z3oPMHrHDuE/s72-c/16122008327.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-7861619662687814599</id><published>2008-12-02T10:29:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-12-02T10:31:52.910+05:30</updated><title type='text'>What's happening to my Mumbai?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The craziness that hit Mumbai made headlines all over the world. But for those of us who were in the city and were affected in some way or the other, it was much more than craziness. It was fear, paranoia, bravery, foolishness, trauma, sadness and many other things that probably can’t be put into words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday night, Nov 26, 2008, I happened to glance at the TV as my parents and brother were watching the news. I was appalled to see that terrorists had gotten into The Taj and The Trident hotels which are places I’ve been to many times. I couldn’t believe they were holding innocent people to ransom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As hours passed by, the drama unfolded and took horrific turns. People were shot at. People were injured, some lost their lives. But the saddest part was that Mumbai lost its most famed resilience. The same spirit that actually helped the city bounce back from previous difficult times like bombings, riots, floods, etc. was missing in action this time. It was heart breaking to see how fear and gloom cloaked the city and very few people dared venture out. Not just for one day but for three days. People stayed at home and were glued to their TV sets to find out what was happening. The belief that the only way that we ordinary people can defy fears caused by such attacks is to get on with our daily routine lives as soon as possible was sadly missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking at all this, I was angry and distressed. I wanted to rant and rave at the terrorists. I wanted to yell at them. I wanted to teach them a lesson they would remember. I wanted to tell them – Look what you’ve done to our city! What have you gotten out of it?&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/18071351-7861619662687814599?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/7861619662687814599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=7861619662687814599&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/7861619662687814599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/7861619662687814599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2008/12/whats-happening-to-my-mumbai.html' title='What&apos;s happening to my Mumbai?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-4473407558900191887</id><published>2008-11-24T08:25:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-11-24T08:35:55.500+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Waiting for perfection?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I was reading a book which can strictly be classified as brainless, entertaining and absolute fiction work. But one sentence leaped out at me. It said - Life is what happens while we're waiting for it to be perfect enough to live it. That really made me think. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Friends and people who are close to me know how much I stress on things being done just right and perfectly. I do not like things being in disorder. Of course it's much more complex and would take a lot of time to explain but I like order, patterns, the right way to do a certain thing, rehearsing, etc.. you get the drift. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Made me think while I'm stressing about all of these things, is life actually passing me by? Am I missing out in my quest for perfection in everything?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-4473407558900191887?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/4473407558900191887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=4473407558900191887&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4473407558900191887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4473407558900191887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2008/11/waiting-for-perfection.html' title='Waiting for perfection?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-1965322885193474844</id><published>2008-11-20T12:48:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-11-20T12:53:19.824+05:30</updated><title type='text'>My scary mirror</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I am Christian and believe in God. Jesus is God for me. Lord of my life. The One who is my Saviour is my Friend, Comforter, Companion, Lover and a lot of other things as well. My Christian faith is somewhat of a mystery to me as much as it is to others. I think He loves me far, far more than I love Him or love myself for that matter. Sometimes I have a hard time seeing that but I know it for a fact. It’s kinda like being in a relationship with a person you love a lot but there are so many layers that you don’t know the person ever completely. Like you’re discovering something new about the person you love every single day. . I think it’s very cool and exciting on one hand but on the other it’s a little bit scary as well. Scary because I don’t know what I’m going to find out next.. Fear of the unknown.. But you know what’s funny (not haha funny but like in strange funny) is that as I spend time with Him, reading His Word and discover more about Him, I discover more about myself as well.. I realize that I’m ever changing, growing sometimes and stagnant sometimes, learning new things, have loads and loads of faults and shortcomings, have gifts that I didn’t know existed, discover that I can do things I thought I was incapable of, that sometimes I have preconceived notions and biases out which I function, have a tendency to not trust easily, etc. Now finding out stuff about your own self can be pretty scary as well. But it’s great because it gives you a sense of direction as to where do you go from here. It is true! His Word is like a mirror!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-1965322885193474844?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/1965322885193474844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=1965322885193474844&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1965322885193474844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1965322885193474844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-scary-mirror.html' title='My scary mirror'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-1954514057195705469</id><published>2008-11-17T12:20:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2008-11-18T08:15:07.139+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Life or death?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Last week, I got a call from a friend (who we'll call Riya for confidentiality purposes). Riya and her boyfriend had just broken up a week back. She didn't sound good at all and wanted to let me know that she was planning on taking a half day from work and going home. I thought it would be better for her to stay at work as she would have something at least to distract her and keep her mind occupied but she insisted that she wanted to go home as she wasn't feeling too great. After not having succeeded at persuading her, at last I gave up and told her to give me a call when she got home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course as I got done with work and met a friend who was getting his tux made for his wedding, my thoughts were with Riya as she hadn't called. So I decided to drop in by her place and check on her. It was a good thing I did because when I knocked the door, she answered and I was shocked at her appearance! She looked haggard, her eyes looked dead and she had some pills in her hand and a phone in the other. I asked her what she thought she was doing and she replied that if I'd delayed even 30 seconds later she would've taken 15 pills and be done with her life on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even as she was saying those words, my heart went out to her and I just held her and let her cry. She cried for a few minutes and then dropped the pills and the phone down (which she was going to use to text her ex-boyfriend). I asked her to get dressed up and we went out for a long walk after which we had dinner and then I asked her to sleep over at my place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she got ready to go to bed, she told me that she hadn't slept in more than a week and that everytime she tried sleeping, her thoughts would go towards her failed relationship. But as soon as she shut her eyes she opened them again with a look of terror and said that she couldn't sleep because when she shut her eyes she felt something dark creeping towards her and suffocating her. Now, this was scary and I tried not to show anything on my face. I told her to close her eyes, say a prayer and then try to get some sleep. But at the same time, I was frantically praying and asking God to protect her and give her a good night's rest and also to give her strength. I prayed for sometime till I saw her relax and fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, I dropped her home with instructions and told her to call me at the slightest hint of unease. You know what?? She did call me later in the day but her voice sounded much brighter and stronger. And the first thing she said was - Thank you. I know you were praying for me. There is no other explanation for how I could've fallen asleep last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised because I did not tell her that I was praying for her. But it made me think about how wonderful and faithful God is. He cares for every little thing that we think He doesn't have time for. He cares for every life whether the person who owns it cares for it or not. Riya made a choice that day to choose death over life but I think it was God's intervention that had me knock on her door just in time. I'm amazed and humbled by how much God loves each one of us.. no matter who we are and what we do. Also, comes to mind, a verse that really speaks volumes of God's wonderful character and it is from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?book_id=29&amp;amp;chapter=42&amp;amp;verse=3&amp;amp;version=31&amp;amp;context=verse"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Isaiah 42:3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;. It says - A bruised reed He will not break, and a smoldering wick He will not snuff out. In faithfulness He will bring forth justice;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now my prayer for Riya is that she would understand this wonderful characteristic of God and realize that her hope and future lies secure in His hands.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-1954514057195705469?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/1954514057195705469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=1954514057195705469&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1954514057195705469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1954514057195705469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2008/11/life-or-death.html' title='Life or death?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-4734095323468837253</id><published>2007-06-08T13:08:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-11-17T11:40:59.082+05:30</updated><title type='text'>God's plan</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;In Genesis 16 we see an incident that has a lot of relevance in today’s world. We can draw parallels to the daily happenings in our busy and modern life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/RmkJOmgkEXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RVhpxPdrkvo/s1600-h/sarah.bmp"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073596601669521778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/RmkJOmgkEXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RVhpxPdrkvo/s320/sarah.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sarai, Abram’s wife had no children. She desperately wanted children but did not have the patience to wait for God’s plan to come to pass in her life. She went ahead and encouraged her husband and her maid servant to have a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Very often, we do the same thing. We get tired of waiting for God’s timing and for the fulfilment of His plan. And we start looking for solutions with our own limited wisdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bible says that when Hagar conceived and knew that she was pregnant, she despised her mistress. This was not a pleasant situation for Sarai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Sometimes, we do things in a hurry. We are then faced with the unpleasant consequences of our thoughtless actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sarai blamed Abram for what she was going through and held him responsible for the suffering that she was facing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;This is exactly what we do too. After we’ve run around trying every possible way that the human mind can think of, we are faced with failure. And the first thing we do when we are faced with failure is that we turn to God and ask him, “Why Lord? Why me?” not taking into account that it was our thoughtlessness and impatience that made us seek our own ways instead of seeking His face and waiting for Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Abram told Sara that her servant was in her hand and that she could do with her as she pleases.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God tells us the same thing when we don’t surrender the situation totally in God’s hands. We sometimes advice God and make suggestions and tell Him what we think He should do. God is a just God and He will never enforce His will on others. He always gives us a free choice and lets us make decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/RmkJiWgkEYI/AAAAAAAAAAU/elZgflybiAI/s1600-h/hagar.bmp"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073596940971938178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/RmkJiWgkEYI/AAAAAAAAAAU/elZgflybiAI/s320/hagar.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The Angel of the Lord found Hagar running away from her horrible situation. Hagar’s mistress was mistreating her and making it very hard for her to live under the same roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We run away from the tough situations that we face in our lives. Instead of standing up and dealing with the problems and hard circumstances prayerfully, we get afraid, give up and run away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Angel of the Lord told Hagar to go back and submit to her mistress. In return, He promised to increase her descendants and lavish many other blessings on her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;When we obey God and wait patiently for his plan to come through even in tough circumstances, God will lift us up and lavish many blessings on us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If any of us are going through a difficult situation or think that the way ahead is too hard, then be encouraged because you are in the middle of God’s plan. Be patient and hang on to His promises in faith and He will bring it to pass and bless you beyond your imagination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-4734095323468837253?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/4734095323468837253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=4734095323468837253&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4734095323468837253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/4734095323468837253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2007/06/gods-plan.html' title='God&apos;s plan'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rhqDbrS_a_k/RmkJOmgkEXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/RVhpxPdrkvo/s72-c/sarah.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-1319310210499555970</id><published>2007-01-08T15:16:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-01-08T15:22:17.753+05:30</updated><title type='text'>On the other side</title><content type='html'>A sick man turned to his doctor, as he was preparing to leave the examination room and said, "Doctor, I am afraid to die. Tell me what lies on the other side."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very quietly, the doctor said, "I don't know. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You don't know? You, a Christian man, do not know what is on the other side?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor was holding the handle of the door; on the other side came a sound of scratching and whining, and as he opened the door, a dog sprang into the room and leaped on him with an eager show of gladness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turning to the patient, the doctor said, "Did you notice my dog? He's never been in this room before. He didn't know what was inside. He knew nothing except that his master was here, and when the door opened, he sprang in without fear. I know little of what is on the other side of death, but I do know one thing... I know my Master is there and that is enough."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What an amazing assurance the doctor had! Do we personally have this assurance today? What if something were to happen to us? Do we know where we are going or is the journey after life on earth a little doubtful? Think about it my friends...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-1319310210499555970?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/1319310210499555970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=1319310210499555970&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1319310210499555970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/1319310210499555970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2007/01/on-other-side.html' title='On the other side'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-116047215505359505</id><published>2006-10-10T14:35:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-10-10T14:54:46.153+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Living for God</title><content type='html'>Just the other day as I was reading this passage, it spoke very strongly to me and I was impressed by the very firm guidelines set down. And it was done so systematically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Often times it's very easy for us to say "Yes, I'm going to live my life for God." But when it comes to actually doing it, do we really have what it takes? Let's see..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1 Peter 4: 1-11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Verse 1 &amp; 2 - Reminds us to live for God&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1Therefore, since Christ suffered in his body, arm yourselves also with the same attitude, because he who has suffered in his body is done with sin. 2As a result, he does not live the rest of his earthly life for evil human desires, but rather for the will of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Verse 3 - Why should we live for God?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3For you have spent enough time in the past doing what pagans choose to do—living in debauchery, lust, drunkenness, orgies, carousing and detestable idolatry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Verse 4 - What you're going to face&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They think it strange that you do not plunge with them into the same flood of dissipation, and they heap abuse on you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Verse 5 &amp;amp; 6 - Don't give in because...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;5But they will have to give account to him who is ready to judge the living and the dead. 6For this is the reason the gospel was preached even to those who are now dead, so that they might be judged according to men in regard to the body, but live according to God in regard to the spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Verse 7-11 - How can we live our lives for God?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7The end of all things is near. Therefore &lt;strong&gt;be clear minded and self-controlled&lt;/strong&gt; so that you can &lt;strong&gt;pray&lt;/strong&gt;. 8Above all, &lt;strong&gt;love each other deeply&lt;/strong&gt;, because love covers over a multitude of sins. 9&lt;strong&gt;Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling&lt;/strong&gt;. 10Each one should &lt;strong&gt;use whatever gift he has received to serve others&lt;/strong&gt;, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms. 11If anyone speaks, he should &lt;strong&gt;do it as one speaking the very words of God&lt;/strong&gt;. If anyone serves, he should &lt;strong&gt;do it with the strength God provides&lt;/strong&gt;, so that in all things &lt;strong&gt;God may be praised &lt;/strong&gt;through Jesus Christ. &lt;strong&gt;To him be the glory and the power&lt;/strong&gt; for ever and ever. Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-116047215505359505?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/116047215505359505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=116047215505359505&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/116047215505359505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/116047215505359505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/10/living-for-god.html' title='Living for God'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-115794827616906282</id><published>2006-09-11T09:35:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-09-11T09:47:56.200+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Faith without deeds</title><content type='html'>James 2: 14 - 26&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? &lt;br /&gt;15 If a brother or sister has nothing to wear and has no food for the day, &lt;br /&gt;16 and one of you says to them, "Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well," but you do not give them the necessities of the body, what good is it? &lt;br /&gt;17 So also faith of itself, if it does not have works, is dead. &lt;br /&gt;18 Indeed someone might say, "You have faith and I have works." Demonstrate your faith to me without works, and I will demonstrate my faith to you from my works. &lt;br /&gt;19 You believe that God is one. You do well. Even the demons believe that and tremble. &lt;br /&gt;20 Do you want proof, you ignoramus, that faith without works is useless? &lt;br /&gt;21 Was not Abraham our father justified by works when he offered his son Isaac upon the altar? &lt;br /&gt;22 You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was completed by the works. &lt;br /&gt;23 Thus the scripture was fulfilled that says, "Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness," and he was called "the friend of God." &lt;br /&gt;24 See how a person is justified by works and not by faith alone. &lt;br /&gt;25 And in the same way, was not Rahab the harlot also justified by works when she welcomed the messengers and sent them out by a different route? &lt;br /&gt;26 For just as a body without a spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the portion that I read this morning and it stayed in my mind. I kept asking God a hundred questions concerning this and about what He was trying to tell me. And all these thoughts were occupying my mind when I got to work and ran upstairs for team prayer. And guess which portion my boss reads before we start praying!!!! I said to myself.. There is something in this for you. I don't believe in conicidences. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It so clearly says in this passage that it's just not enough to have faith in God. Sometimes we very conveniently hide behind the statement - Oh yea I believe in God and I have faith in Him. James says that even the demons believe and tremble.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our faith has to be evident in our lives... In everything we do or say or think. It's not just enough to have faith in God and leave it at that and it's not just enough to have faith in him and then still go and find our own solutions to our problems. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please go ahead and feel free to comment on this passage and express your thoughts, opinions, feelings etc.. Also, what do you think of faith without deeds and what kind of deeds show that you have faith in God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-115794827616906282?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/115794827616906282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=115794827616906282&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/115794827616906282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/115794827616906282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/09/faith-without-deeds.html' title='Faith without deeds'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-115745321876497450</id><published>2006-09-05T15:40:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-09-05T16:17:02.183+05:30</updated><title type='text'>For those Calvin fans!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/calvin%2001.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/calvin%2001.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/calvin%2002.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/calvin%2002.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/calvin%2003.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/calvin%2003.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/calvin%2004.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/calvin%2004.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/calvin%2005.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/calvin%2005.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/calvin%2006.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/calvin%2006.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/calvin%2007.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/calvin%2007.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/calvin%2008.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/calvin%2008.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/calvin%2009.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/calvin%2009.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/calvin%2010.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/calvin%2010.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/calvin%2011.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/calvin%2011.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/calvin%2012.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/calvin%2012.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/calvin%2013.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/calvin%2013.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-115745321876497450?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/115745321876497450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=115745321876497450&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/115745321876497450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/115745321876497450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/09/for-those-calvin-fans.html' title='For those Calvin fans!'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-115745091244337716</id><published>2006-09-05T15:33:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-09-05T15:38:32.460+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Some Definitions</title><content type='html'>1. Cigarette: A pinch of tobacco rolled in paper with fire at one end &amp; a fool at the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Love affairs: Something like cricket where one-day internationals are more popular than a five day test. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Marriage: It's an agreement in which a man loses his bachelors degree and a woman gains her masters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Lecture: An art of transferring information from the notes of the lecturer to the notes of the students without passing through "the minds of either". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Conference: The confusion of one man multiplied by the number present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Compromise: The art of dividing a cake in such a way that everybody believes he got the biggest piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Tears: The hydraulic force due to which masculine will-power is defeated by feminine water-power... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Conference Room: A place where everybody talks, nobody listens &amp; everybody disagrees later on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Classic: books which people praise, but do not read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Smile: A curve that can set a lot of things straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Office: A place where you can relax after your strenuous home life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Yawn: The only time some married men ever get to open their mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Etc.: A sign to make others believe that you know more than you actually do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Committee: Individuals who can do nothing individually and sit down to decide that nothing can be done together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Experience: The name men give to their mistakes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Atom Bomb: An invention to end all inventions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Philosopher: A fool who torments himself during life, to be spoken of when dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Diplomat: A person who tells you to go to hell in such a way that you actually look forward to the trip. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Opportunist: A person who starts taking a bath if he accidentally falls into a river.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Optimist: A person who while falling from Eiffel Tower says in midway "See I am not injured yet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Pessimist: A person who says that O is the last letter in ZERO, instead of the first letter in word OPPORTUNITY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Miser: A person who lives poor so that he can die rich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Father: A banker provided by nature. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Criminal: A guy no different from the rest... except that he got caught.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Boss: Someone who is early when you are late and late when you are early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Politician: One who shakes your hand before elections and your Confidence after? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Doctor: A person who kills your ills by pills, and kills you with his bills.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-115745091244337716?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/115745091244337716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=115745091244337716&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/115745091244337716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/115745091244337716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/09/some-definitions.html' title='Some Definitions'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-115371525948956445</id><published>2006-07-24T09:54:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-07-24T09:57:39.526+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Some reason to smile :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Girl Clown: Do you love me?&lt;br /&gt;Boy Clown: Yes, I love you.&lt;br /&gt;Girl Clown: But, do you really love me?&lt;br /&gt;Boy Clown: Yes, I really love you.&lt;br /&gt;Girl Clown: But, do you really, truly love me?&lt;br /&gt;Boy Clown: Yes! Yes, I really, truly love you! I would die for you!&lt;br /&gt;Girl Clown: You’re always saying that, but you never do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mother calls 911 very worried asking the dispatcher if she needs to take her kid to the emergency room, the kid was eating ants. The dispatcher tells her to give the kid some Benadryl and should be fine, the mother says, I just gave him some ant killer..... Dispatcher: Rush him in to emergency! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Excuses for Not Coming to Work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I can't come in to work today because I'll be stalking my previous boss, who fired me for not showing up for work. OK? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother-in-law has come back as one of the Undead and we must track her to her coffin to drive a stake through her heart and give her eternal peace. One day should do it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it is all the same to you I won't be coming in to work. The voices told me to clean all my guns today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am stuck in the blood pressure machine down at Kroger. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just found out that I was switched at birth. Legally, I shouldn't come to work knowing my employee records may now contain false information. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog ate my car keys. We're going to hitchhike to the vet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;An Atheist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young woman teacher with obvious liberal tendencies explains to her class of small children that she is an atheist. She asks her class if they are atheists too. Not really knowing what atheism is but wanting to be like their teacher, their hands explode into the air like fleshy fireworks.&lt;br /&gt;There is, however, one exception. A beautiful girl named Lucy has not gone along with the crowd. The teacher asks her why she has decided to be different.&lt;br /&gt;"Because I'm not an atheist."&lt;br /&gt;Then, asks the teacher, "What are you?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm a Christian."&lt;br /&gt;The teacher is a little perturbed now, her face slightly red. She asks Lucy why she is a Christian. "Well, I was brought up knowing and loving Jesus. My mom is a Christian, and my dad is a Christian, so I am a Christian."&lt;br /&gt;The teacher is now angry. "That's no reason," she says loudly.&lt;br /&gt;"What if your mom was a moron, and your dad was a moron. What would you be then?"&lt;br /&gt;She paused, and smiled. "Then," says Lucy, "I'd be an atheist."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The Confession Session&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;The new priest is nervous about hearing confessions, so he asks an older priest to sit in on his sessions. After the new priest hears several confessions, the old priest asks him to step out of the confessional for a few suggestions.&lt;br /&gt;The old priest suggests, "Cross your arms over your chest and rub your chin with one hand."&lt;br /&gt;The new priest tries this. The old priest suggests, "Try saying things like, 'I see, yes, go on, and I understand, how did you feel about that?"&lt;br /&gt;The new priest says those things, trying them out. The old priest says, "Now, don't you think that's a little better than slapping your knee and saying, 'No way! What happened next?'" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-115371525948956445?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/115371525948956445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=115371525948956445&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/115371525948956445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/115371525948956445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/07/some-reason-to-smile.html' title='Some reason to smile :)'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-115097556769342460</id><published>2006-06-22T16:41:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-06-22T16:57:26.346+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Wanting a meal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/wanting_a_meal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/wanting_a_meal.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This photograph showing a starving Sudanese child being stalked by a vulture won Kevin Carter the 1994 Pulitzer Prize for feature photography.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin Carter, the South African photographer, whose image of a starving Sudanese toddler stalked by a vulture won him a Pulitzer Prize was a tormented man. His picture of an emaciated girl collapsing on the way to a feeding centre, as a plump vulture lurked in the background, was published first in The New York Times and The Mail &amp; Guardian, a Johannesburg weekly. The reaction to the picture was so strong that The New York Times published an unusual editor's note on the fate of the girl. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 1993 Carter headed north of the border with Silva to photograph the rebel movement in famine-stricken Sudan. To make the trip, Carter had taken a leave from the Weekly Mail and borrowed money for the air fare. Immediately after their plane touched down in the village of Ayod, Carter began snapping photos of famine victims. Seeking relief from the sight of masses of people starving to death, he wandered into the open bush. He heard a soft, high-pitched whimpering and saw a tiny girl trying to make her way to the feeding centre. As he crouched to photograph her, a vulture landed in view. Careful not to disturb the bird, he positioned himself for the best possible image. He would later say he waited about 20 minutes, hoping the vulture would spread its wings. It did not, and after he took his photographs, he chased the bird away and watched as the little girl resumed her struggle. Afterward he sat under a tree, lit a cigarette, talked to God and cried. "He was depressed afterward," Silva recalls. "He kept saying he wanted to hug his daughter." His father, Mr Jimmy Carter said soon after Kenvin Carter's death: "Kevin always carried around the horror of the work he did." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At prayer time in my office, my boss showed this picture around and when I saw it my gut clenched. I couldn't put words to the emotions and feelings I experienced. So I'm just going to let the picture say it all. Please feel free to comment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-115097556769342460?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/115097556769342460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=115097556769342460&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/115097556769342460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/115097556769342460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/06/wanting-meal.html' title='Wanting a meal'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-115018182411883102</id><published>2006-06-13T12:23:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-06-14T08:20:14.973+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Up for some Pav Bhaji?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/pav_bhaji.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/pav_bhaji.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Pav bhaji is an Indian dish with origins in Mumbai. It is a typical Mumbai dish relished by people who eat at all kinds of places from big restaurants to dhabas to street hawkers. The pav bhaji can sometimes be a Mumbaikar’s breakfast, lunch and dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The pav bhaji consists of the bhaji and the pav (bread) garnished with coriander and chopped onions. The bhaji is usually potato-based. Potatoes are mashed or diced on a flat pan and made into thick gravy after adding diced tomatoes, green peas, carrots or othe&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/pao-bhaji.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/pao-bhaji.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;r vegetables. A special blend of spices called the pav bhaji masala is added to this thick gravy. The gravy is then allowed to simmer on the pan for a few minutes and is served hot in a flat dish with a tablespoon of butter on top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The pav (bread) is roasted on the same pan with an ample amount of butter and masala until golden brown, and garnished with diced onion and a slice of lemon and served with the bhaji. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I personally like mine with a little bit of cheese sprinked over it. I know! I know! I can hear all those health freaks count calories but when it comes to Pav Bhaji I simply stop thinking of those things... :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-115018182411883102?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/115018182411883102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=115018182411883102&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/115018182411883102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/115018182411883102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/06/up-for-some-pav-bhaji.html' title='Up for some Pav Bhaji?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-114891712709177467</id><published>2006-05-29T20:59:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-05-29T21:08:47.123+05:30</updated><title type='text'>TO ALL THE SMART WOMEN WHO NEED A LAUGH AND TO MEN WHO CAN HANDLE IT!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;WOMEN'S REVENGE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cash, cheque or charge?" I asked, after folding items the woman wished to purchase. As she fumbled for her wallet I noticed a remote control for a television set in her purse. "So, do you always carry your TV remote?" I asked. "No," she replied, "but my husband refused to come shopping with me, and I figured this was the most evil thing I could do to him legally."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;W O R D S&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A husband read an article to his wife about how many words women use a day...30,000 to a man's 15,000.The wife replied, "The reason has to be because we have to repeat everything to men...The husband then turned to his wife and asked, "What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CREATION&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man said to his wife one day, "I don't know how you can be so stupid and so beautiful all at the same time. " The wife responded, "Allow me to explain.God made me beautiful so you would be attracted to me; God made me stupid so I would be attracted to you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WHO DOES WHAT&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man and his wife were having an argument about who should brew the coffee each morning. The wife said, "You should do it, because you get up first, and then we don't have to wait as long to get our coffee. "The husband said, " You are in charge of cooking around here and you should do it, because that is your job, and I can just wait for my coffee. "Wife replies, "No, you should do it, and besides, it is in the Bible that the man should do the coffee. "Husband Replies, "I can't believe that, show me." So she fetched the Bible, and opened the New Testament and showed him at the top of several pages, that it indeed says.........."HE! BREWS"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE SILENT TREATMENT&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man and his wife were having some problems at home and were giving each other the silent treatment. Suddenly, the man realized that the next day, he would need his wife to wake him at 5:00 AM for an early morning business flight. Not wanting to be the first to break the silence (and LOSE), he wrote on a piece of paper, "Please wake me at 5:00 AM. "He left it where he knew she would find it. The next morning, the man woke up, only to discover it was 9:00 AM and he had missed his flight. Furious, he was about to go and see why his wife hadn't wakened him, when he noticed a piece of paper by the bed. The paper said, "It is 5:00 AM. Wake up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WIFE VS. HUSBAND&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple drove down a country road for several miles, not saying a word. An earlier discussion had led to an argument and neither of them wanted to concede their position. As they passed a barnyard of mules, goats, and pigs, the husband asked sarcastically, "Relatives of yours?" "Yep," the wife replied, "in-laws."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-114891712709177467?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/114891712709177467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=114891712709177467&amp;isPopup=true' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114891712709177467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114891712709177467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/05/to-all-smart-women-who-need-laugh-and.html' title='TO ALL THE SMART WOMEN WHO NEED A LAUGH AND TO MEN WHO CAN HANDLE IT!'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-114762161752126890</id><published>2006-05-14T21:16:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-05-15T09:50:07.990+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The kids on the street</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/st%2005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/st%2005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each and every child has the right to enjoy his/her childhood. But there are thousands of children on the streets of Mumbai who are deprived of simple childhood joys and have forgotten what it is to have fun. At a very tender age these children are loaded with responsibilities and are forced into work or begging or some such compulsory activity that makes them grow up faster than what they were intended to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten year old Tina is forced to sell flowers regardless of whether it is scorching hot or pouring rain. She probably earns between Rs. 50-70 per day which goes towards feeding her family for the day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/st%2001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six year old Yusuf is forced to beg at busy traffic signals in the city. The money he gets by begging goes to an organized group of beggars and is redistributed. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/st%2002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/st%2002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There are sunny days and rainy days for him too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eight year old Ravi is the child of construction workers. Instead of spending his time studying and playing like regular eight year olds do, he is required to help his parents with construction work. This work includes carrying heavy stones on his head and other odd jobs like fetching something, carrying messages to and fro, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/st%2003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/st%2003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Each of these kids has a reason for being where they are. They could be kids who have run away from home, or have come to city with dreams to make it big or are there simply because in the face of hunger and poverty, they have no choice … &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Sometimes you can see them trying to reach out and grasp what little bit they can &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/st%2004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/st%2004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;of their childhood. It could be a break they suddenly decide to take in the middle of their work day or play a game or tease each other… At such times it is really heart warming to see them smile or giggle or laugh as they frolic around and forget their cares for some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I guess what I’m trying to do here is to spread awareness about the street kids. They always touch my heart and some of them are so lovely looking that I just want to take them in but since that is not practical I wish that people all around would open their eyes and take notice and probably do whatever little anyone can to improve their situation. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-114762161752126890?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/114762161752126890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=114762161752126890&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114762161752126890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114762161752126890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/05/kids-on-street.html' title='The kids on the street'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-114465809513790553</id><published>2006-04-10T13:49:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-04-10T14:04:55.163+05:30</updated><title type='text'>KidS SaY ThE DarNdesT ThInGs</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Some of these brought a smile to my face... Kids do say the darndest things!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- &lt;/strong&gt;A little girl was talking to her teacher about whales. The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat was very small. The little girl stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale. Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human; it was physically impossible.&lt;br /&gt;The little girl said, "When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah". &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;The teacher asked, "What if Jonah went to hell?" The little girl replied, "Then you ask him". &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- &lt;/strong&gt;A Kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they were drawing. She would occasionally walk around to see each child's work. As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was. The girl replied, "I'm drawing God."The teacher paused and said, "But no one knows what God looks like." Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing, the girl: replied, "They will in a minute."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- &lt;/strong&gt;A Sunday school teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments with her five and six year olds. After explaining the commandment to "honor" thy Father and thy Mother, she asked, "Is there a commandment that teaches us how to treat our brothers and sisters?"Without missing a beat one little boy (the oldest of a family) answered, "Thou shall not kill." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- &lt;/strong&gt;One day a little girl was sitting and watching her mother do the dishes at the kitchen sink. She suddenly noticed that her mother had several strands of white hair sticking out in contrast on her brunette head. She looked at her mother and inquisitively asked, "Why are some of your hairs white, Mom?" Her mother replied, "Well, every time that you do something wrong and make me cry or unhappy, one of my hairs turns white."The little girl thought about this revelation for a while and then said, "Momma, how come ALL of grandma's hairs are white?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- &lt;/strong&gt;The children had all been photographed, and the teacher was trying to persuade them each to buy a copy of the group picture "Just think how nice it will be to look at it when you are all grown up and say, 'There's Jennifer, she's a lawyer,' or 'That's Michael, He's a doctor.'A small voice at the back of the room rang out, "And there's the teacher, she's dead." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- &lt;/strong&gt;A teacher was giving a lesson on the circulation of the blood. Trying to make the matter clearer, she said, "Now, class, if I stood on my head, the blood, as you know, would run into it, and I would turn red in the face.""Yes," the class said."Then why is it that while I am standing upright in the ordinary position the blood doesn't run into my feet?"A little fellow shouted, "Cause your feet ain't empty."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- &lt;/strong&gt;The children were lined up in the cafeteria of a Catholic elementary school for lunch. At the head of the table was a large pile of apples. The nun made a note, and posted on the apple tray: "Take only ONE. God is watching." Moving further along the lunch line, at the other end of the table was a large pile of chocolate chip cookies. A child had written a note, "Take all you want. God is watching the apples.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- &lt;/strong&gt;Little Bobby came into the kitchen where his mother was making dinner. His birthday was coming up and he thought this was a good time to tell his mother what he wanted.&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, I want a bike for my birthday." Little Bobby was a bit of a troublemaker. He had gotten into trouble at school and at home. Bobby's mother asked him if he thought he deserved to get a bike for his birthday.&lt;br /&gt;Little Bobby, of course, thought he did. Bobby's mother, wanted Bobby to reflect on his behavior over the last year.&lt;br /&gt;"Go to your room, Bobby, and think about how you have behaved this year. Then write a letter to God and tell him why you deserve a bike for your birthday." Little Bobby stomped up the steps to his room and sat down to write God a letter.&lt;br /&gt;Letter 1&lt;br /&gt;Dear God,&lt;br /&gt;I have been a very good boy this year and I would like a bike for my birthday. I want a red one.&lt;br /&gt;Your friend,&lt;br /&gt;Bobby&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bobby knew that this wasn't true. He had not been a very good boy this year, so he tore up the letter and started over.&lt;br /&gt;Letter 2&lt;br /&gt;Dear God,&lt;br /&gt;This is your friend Bobby. I have been a good boy this year and I would like a red bike for my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;Your friend&lt;br /&gt;Bobby&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bobby knew that this wasn't true either. So, he tore up the letter and started again.&lt;br /&gt;Letter 3&lt;br /&gt;Dear God,&lt;br /&gt;I have been an "OK "boy this year. I still would really like a bike for my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;Bobby&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bobby knew he could not send this letter to God either. So, Bobby wrote a fourth letter.&lt;br /&gt;Letter 4&lt;br /&gt;God,&lt;br /&gt;I know I haven't been a good boy this year. I am very sorry. I will be a good boy if you just send me a bike for my birthday. Please! Thank you, Bobby&lt;br /&gt;Bobby knew, even if it was true, this letter was not going to get him a bike. Now, Bobby was very upset. He went downstairs and told his mom that he wanted to go to church. Bobby's mother thought her plan had worked, as Bobby looked very sad. "Just be home in time for dinner," Bobby's mother told him.&lt;br /&gt;Bobby walked down the street to the church on the corner. Little Bobby went into the church and up to the altar. He looked around to see if anyone was there. Bobby bent down and picked up a statue of the Virgin Mary. He slipped the statue under his shirt and ran out of the church, down the street, into the house, and up to his room. He shut the door to his room and sat down with a piece of paper and a pen.Bobby began to write his letter to God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Letter 5&lt;br /&gt;God,&lt;br /&gt;I'VE KIDNAPPED YOUR MAMA. IF YOU WANT TO SEE HER AGAIN, SEND THE BIKE!&lt;br /&gt;BOBBY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Children praying to God......the things kids say:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Dear GOD, Thank you for the baby brother, but what I prayed for was a puppy. ~ Joyce ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD, Did you mean for the giraffe to look like that or was it an accident? ~ Norma ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dear GOD, Are you really invisible or is that just a trick? ~ Lucy ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD, Why is Sunday school on Sunday? I thought it was supposed to be our day of rest.~ Tom ~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dear GOD,If You give me a genie lamp like Aladin, I will give you anything you want, except my money or my chess set.~ Raphael ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD, I want to be just like my Daddy when I get big but not with so much hair all over. ~ Sam ~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dear GOD, I think about You sometimes even when I'm not praying.~ Elliott ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD, It rained for our whole vacation and is my father mad! He said some things about You that people are not supposed to say, but I hope You will not hurt him anyway. Your friend (But I am not going to tell you who I am)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dear GOD, I went to this wedding and they kissed right in church. Is that okay?~ Neil ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD, Did you really mean "do unto others as they do unto you"? Because if you did, then I'm going to fix my brother. ~ Darla ~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dear GOD, Please send me a pony. I never asked for anything before, You can look it up.~ Bruce ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD, What does it mean You are a Jealous God? I thought You had everything. ~ Jane ~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dear GOD, My brother is a rat. You should give him a tail. Ha ha.~ Danny ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD, I bet it is very hard for You to love all of everybody in the whole world. There are only 4 people in our family and I can never do it.~ Nan ~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dear GOD, My brother told me about being born but it doesn't sound right. They're just kidding, aren't they?~ Marsha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD, I would like to live 900 years like the guy in the Bible. Love, Chris&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dear GOD, We read Thomas Edison made light. But in Sunday school they said You did it. So I bet he stoled your idea. ~ Donna ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD, I do not think anybody could be a better GOD. Well, I just want You to know but I am not just saying that because You are GOD already. ~ Charles ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dear GOD, Maybe Cain and Abel would not kill each other so much if they had their own rooms. It works with my brother.~ Larry ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD, Instead of letting people die and having to make new ones, why don't You just keep the ones You have now? ~ Jane ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dear GOD, Is it true my father won't get in Heaven if he uses his bowling words in the house? ~ Anita ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD, Who draws the lines around the countries?~ Nan ~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dear GOD, I read the Bible. What does 'begat' mean? Nobody will tell me. ~ Alison ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD, In school they told us what You do. Who does it when You are on vacation?~ Jane ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Dear GOD, I didn't think orange went with purple until I saw the sunset you made on Tuesday. That was cool! ~ DJ ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD,The bad people laughed at Noah - "You made an ark on dry land you fool." But he was smart, he stuck with You. That's what I would do. ~ Eddie ~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TIGHT FIT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Did you hear about the teacher who was helping one of her kindergarten students put his boots on?&lt;br /&gt;He asked for help and she could see why. With her pulling and him pushing, the boots still didn't want to go on. When the second boot was on, she had worked up a sweat. She almost whimpered when the little boy said, "Teacher, they're on the wrong feet."&lt;br /&gt;She looked, and sure enough, they were. It wasn't any easier pulling the boots off than it was putting them on. She managed to keep her cool as together they worked to get the boots back on - this time on the right feet.&lt;br /&gt;He then announced, "These aren't my boots." She bit her tongue rather than get right in his face and scream, "Why didn't you say so?" like she wanted to do. Once again she struggled to help him pull the ill-fitting boots off.&lt;br /&gt;He then said, "They're my brother's boots. My Mom made me wear them." She didn't know if she should laugh or cry. She than mustered up the grace to wrestle the boots onto his feet again.&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Now, where are your mittens?" He said, "I stuffed them in the toes of my boots..."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- &lt;/strong&gt;Once a public school teacher, who was prejudiced against the Bible, was explaining to her class that the Jews' crossing the Red Sea was no miracle. "The water was only six inches deep," explained the godless teacher. "The Jews had nothing to worry about." From the back of the room came a little boy's shout, "Praise the Lord, Hallelujah."&lt;br /&gt;"No, Johnny, you didn't hear me correctly. I said the water was only six inches deep where the Jews crossed the Red Sea. It was no miracle."&lt;br /&gt;Johnny replied, "Oh, that's not what I was praising the Lord for. I was praising Him for the miracle that Pharaoh's army could drown in just six inches of water." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- &lt;/strong&gt;A group of young children were sitting in a circle with their teacher. She was going around in turn asking them all questions."Davy, what noise does a cow make?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;"It goes moo." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;"Alice, what noise does a cat make?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;"It goes meow." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;"Jamie, what sound does a lamb make?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;"It goes baaa." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;"Jennifer, what sound does a mouse make?" "Errr.., it goes.. click!" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-114465809513790553?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/114465809513790553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=114465809513790553&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114465809513790553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114465809513790553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/04/kids-say-darndest-things.html' title='KidS SaY ThE DarNdesT ThInGs'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-114354271208147974</id><published>2006-03-28T15:53:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-04-03T16:00:54.506+05:30</updated><title type='text'>All aboard!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/inside%20train.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Commuting is a daily chore for most Mumbai residents. When the train pulls in at the station the commuters seem to pile in half a mile before the train stops. They have to, if they want space to fit both their legs. It requires skill, technique and persistence to get in and out of a Mumbai local train. Here are some pictures of what is part of daily life for most of us in Mumbai.. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/train%2006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;People hanging out the door of a moving train. That's the only way they won't suffocate!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/inside%20train.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/inside%20train.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Here is a shot of the inside of a local train when it's not peak hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/trains%2007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/trains%2007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/trains%2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="211" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/trains%2009.jpg" width="330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;palign="right"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;palign="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a girl waiting for the train to depart. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/wait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/wait.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-114354271208147974?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/114354271208147974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=114354271208147974&amp;isPopup=true' title='36 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114354271208147974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114354271208147974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/03/all-aboard.html' title='All aboard!'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>36</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-114258510902707254</id><published>2006-03-17T13:47:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-17T14:15:09.043+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The burger from Mumbai</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vada Pav is an Indian vegetarian fast food commonly eaten in Maharashtra, India. It is also called Mumbai's Hamburger. Quick and easy to eat on the go, the vada pav is an indispensable part of street food culture in Bombay. Vendors are found at almost every street corner dishing out this popular snack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It consists of a vada, served in a bun (pav). The vada is usually potato-based. It consists of a mix of mashed potatoes dipped in a chick pea batter and then deep fried. It is usually served in with a spoonful of a couple of different chutneys such as a garlic red pepper dry chutney, tangy tamarind chutney or a hot cilantro and green chilli chutney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/400/wp2.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vada pavs form a breakfast for many of the local people of Maharashtra. It is a scrumptious snack sold nearly everywhere in Maharashtra. The snack is often served at breakfast and at tea time in many of the region's small eateries. Like hot dogs and other roadside fast food, care must be taken in ensuring that the product is not undercooked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Vada pav was first made when Ashok Vaidya, a snack seller outside Dadar railway station, decided to experiment. The combination of batata vada and split pav continues to be Mumbai's sledgehammer answer to the burger. Some variations include "cheese vada pav" (where slices of cheese are added), "samosa pav" (where "samosa" is used instead of vada) and "Jain vada pav" (does not use onions in preparing vada) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-114258510902707254?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/114258510902707254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=114258510902707254&amp;isPopup=true' title='44 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114258510902707254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114258510902707254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/03/burger-from-mumbai.html' title='The burger from Mumbai'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>44</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-114250964644621736</id><published>2006-03-16T17:13:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-16T17:17:26.463+05:30</updated><title type='text'>What do you think?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ok... I received a short sentence in my email. It spoke volumes and so I thought I'd post it here and invite comments. So go ahead and post your comments on what you think, whether it holds true or not, and why do you think so... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"God doesn't call the qualified, He qualifies the called."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&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/18071351-114250964644621736?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/114250964644621736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=114250964644621736&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114250964644621736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114250964644621736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/03/what-do-you-think.html' title='What do you think?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-114130158602023811</id><published>2006-03-02T17:31:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-03-02T17:43:06.046+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Carrots, Eggs, or Coffee Beans?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/eggs.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;You will never look at a cup of coffee the same way again.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young woman went to her mother and told her abouther life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as though just as one problem was solved, a new one arose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to a boil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the first, she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil, without saying a word. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/carrots.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/carrots.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out&lt;br /&gt;and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me what you see."&lt;br /&gt;Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did, and noted that they were soft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/eggs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/eggs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;shell, she observed the hard boiled egg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The daughter then asked, "What does it mean, mother?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same&lt;br /&gt;adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/coffee%20beans.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/coffee%20beans.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the  boiling water, they had changed the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which are you?" she asked her daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think of this: Which one am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and a hardened heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water&lt;br /&gt;gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the&lt;br /&gt;bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the&lt;br /&gt;situation around you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevate yourself to another level? How do you handle adversity?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-114130158602023811?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/114130158602023811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=114130158602023811&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114130158602023811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/114130158602023811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/03/carrots-eggs-or-coffee-beans.html' title='Carrots, Eggs, or Coffee Beans?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113890076395615649</id><published>2006-02-02T22:41:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-02-06T08:53:34.726+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Wind, The Seas &amp; The Storms</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mark 4:35 - 41&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;On the same day, when evening had come, He said to them, "Let us cross over to the other side."&lt;br /&gt;Now when they had left the multitude, they took Him along in the boat as He was. And other little boats were also with Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And a great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that it was already filling.&lt;br /&gt;But He was in the stern, asleep on a pillow. And they awoke Him and said to Him, "Teacher, do You not care that we are perishing?"&lt;br /&gt;Then He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace, be still!" And the wind ceased and there was a great calm.&lt;br /&gt;But He said to them, "Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?"&lt;br /&gt;And they feared exceedingly, and said to one another, "Who can this be, that even the wind and the sea obey Him!" &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have read this above passage many time and heard many different messages about this passage. On reading this passage some days back, some points stood out very prominently from this passage. In verse 35, Jesus says ‘come let us cross over to the other side.’ And this spoke to me very strongly. There will be times when God will put challenges in our path or take us through new experiences or tough times. But the heartening thing is that God says, ‘Come, let us cross over to the other side.’ He doesn’t say “Go on, I’m following you..” or “Watch how I cross and then do it yourself..” or “Come on child, I know you can do it.” He very simply offers to cross over to the other side with us. How caring and protective is our God towards us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;When we go through winds and storms and tough times that threaten to drown us, when we are overwhelmed and feel like there is no respite from the waves that beat ceaselessly and when we feel that God is asleep, we ought to realize that He is not! He is just waiting for us to call upon Him that He may answer us and order the storms in our life to be still. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In verse 40, God asks, “Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?” And I realized that many a times I struggle with my own fears, insecurities, imperfections, etc without remembering that God can take care of every situation and that it doesn’t matter how capable or incapable I am because God is in control. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In verse 41, the disciples ask among themselves, “Who can this be, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?” This is a question I think that we all have to ask ourselves and check how well we know our God. We have to ask ourselves, ‘Who is this?’, ‘Do I really know Him that well?’, ‘How do I get to know Him better?’ And we have to take the time to spend time with God and get to know Him on a better level, on a more personal and intimate level, know who He is, the heart He has for us, the plans He has for us, etc.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Thus this whole passage, in some ways, shows us how God takes us through different experiences, confirms He is there with us through it all and at the end of it wants us to have more faith in Him and get to know Him better. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113890076395615649?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113890076395615649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113890076395615649&amp;isPopup=true' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113890076395615649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113890076395615649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/02/wind-seas-storms.html' title='The Wind, The Seas &amp; The Storms'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113801886830599248</id><published>2006-01-23T17:24:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-01-27T08:46:57.383+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Matt Redman Concert</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/matt.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/matt.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The city of Mumbai had the privilege of worshiping with Matt Redman who did 2 concerts on Jan 14, 2006. It was a wonderful experience for us as we got to see and hear for ourselves from this person who has written fantastic songs like 'Let everything that has breath', 'Friend of Sinners', 'I will offer up my life', 'Heart of Worship', 'Undignified', 'Blessed be Your name', 'Facedown', etc... because these are songs that we sing in church and songs that have depth and are close to our hearts. It was amazing for us to see Matt's humility before God and before other people, to see his heart for God and the reverence with which he worshipped God. I so badly wanted to stay back and attend the second concert as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the concert, Matt was kind and generous enough to distribute CDs. Though there were not enough copies due to some problem with shipping, he made sure that at least each family received one copy. It has a compilation of some of his most well known songs that we sing often and some that are still relatively new but have the potential to become well known.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/album.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113801886830599248?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113801886830599248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113801886830599248&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113801886830599248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113801886830599248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/01/matt-redman-concert.html' title='Matt Redman Concert'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113756859048178575</id><published>2006-01-18T12:30:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-01-18T12:46:30.536+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Can we praise God?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I got this paragraph about praise in my email that set me thinking... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I think that praising God is like an attitude that we have to develop. Sure, it's hard sometimes... There are times when you don't even feel like smiling, leave alone praising God. But may be it would do us good to remember that we shouldn't only praise God about circumstances but that we need to praise Him for who He is. "I will be glad and rejoice in You" (Ps 9: 2). Maybe we can't rejoice in our circumstances or in the plans that are made for the day, but we can always rejoice in the Lord (Phil. 4:4). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We can rejoice in the Lord today because He is worthy of our praise. "I will be glad and rejoice in You; I will sing praise to Your name, O Most High" (v. 2). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It would also do us good to remember that God is on His throne now and will be forever. There is no situation or circumstance that is not under His control. So we can rejoice even if we are going through hard times just knowing that we have the privilege of leaving it to Him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;People of the world! People reading this blog! If your life is broken right now, be encouraged that God knows what is going on in your life and will restore you. Until He does, rejoice in Him and praise His name. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113756859048178575?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113756859048178575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113756859048178575&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113756859048178575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113756859048178575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/01/can-we-praise-god.html' title='Can we praise God?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113751166243001943</id><published>2006-01-17T20:42:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-01-17T20:57:42.530+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Pani Puri</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/panipuri.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pani Puris, also commonly called 'Gol gappas' by Indians are a favourite snack. In Mumbai it's very common to see street stalls, vendors on beaches and at fairs selling it. The word "Pani" means water and "Puri" is puffed Indian bread. It is surely an experience eating Pani Puri. The Puri is a 1 1/2 inch puffed round Puri which is fried and filled with potato and/or green lentils and tamarind chutney and the Pani Puri (mint) water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/Pani%20puri.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;The standard quantity a vendor will sell is 6 puris in a plate. If you come to India, then make sure you taste this at least once. Also remember, that in different parts of India, different variations will be served. There will be something unique to each place reflected in the taste.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/panipuri.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113751166243001943?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113751166243001943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113751166243001943&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113751166243001943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113751166243001943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/01/pani-puri.html' title='Pani Puri'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113707382973531784</id><published>2006-01-12T19:00:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-01-15T18:58:01.736+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Sujatha in India - Dec 05</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm having difficulties putting up pictures again and managed to put some up of my time in Bangalore with Sujatha. We had great fun even though our time together was short. I'll put up some more soon but for those of you that missed Sujatha.. here's your chance to see what she was up to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/joy_s_house.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;With Sujatha and her parents at a friend's birthday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/jess%2C%20suja%20and%20I.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sujatha and I with our niece&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/with%20terry%2C%20pat%20and%20suja%20copy.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pat, Terry, me and Sujatha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/suj___me_after_hair_colour.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sujatha and I after getting our hair highlighted&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/Sujatha%20-%20marathon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sujatha at a marathon in Bangalore (Is that a surprise anymore??!?!! She runs at every chance she gets)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113707382973531784?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113707382973531784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113707382973531784&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113707382973531784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113707382973531784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/01/sujatha-in-india-dec-05.html' title='Sujatha in India - Dec 05'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113647854251823645</id><published>2006-01-05T21:54:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-01-12T18:59:00.296+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Rickshaws</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;An auto rickshaw (auto or rickshaw or tempo in popular parlance) is a vehicle for hire that is one of the chief modes of transport in India, Pakistan, Nepal, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka and is popular in many other countries. It is a motorized version of the traditional rickshaw, a small two- or three-wheeled cart pulled by a person, and the velotaxi. The auto rickshaw is also related to its Thai cousin, the tuk-tuk and the Bajaj in Indonesia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A majority of Indian auto rickshaws have no doors or seatbelts. They are generally yellow in colour and have a black canopy on the top. Their design varies considerably from place to place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/rick1.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/rick1.5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The outside of what a rickshaw looks like.&lt;/strong&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;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/rick2.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The inside of a rickshaw.&lt;/strong&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;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/rick3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A side shot of the rickshaw&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113647854251823645?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113647854251823645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113647854251823645&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113647854251823645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113647854251823645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2006/01/rickshaws.html' title='Rickshaws'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113507591373419724</id><published>2005-12-20T16:09:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-12-20T16:21:53.750+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Bangalore in Dec 2003</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hello everyone.. I think I can finally upload pictures on my blog back again and so here come my old pictures. These pictures are from my time with Sujatha in Bangalore in Dec 2003. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/that%20phone.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Sujatha answering calls from her numerous admirers who have realized that she is in town ;) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/my%20dog%20bitten%20hand.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here am I showing off my dog bite. I was attacked by a dog on my first day there.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/playing%20guitar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here's Terry (Sujatha's brother) trying to get my mind off the pain.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/before%20haircut%20with%20Suja.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sujatha and I getting ready to go to a New Year's service.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There's many more but I guess I should go easy on all of you ... :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113507591373419724?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113507591373419724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113507591373419724&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113507591373419724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113507591373419724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/12/bangalore-in-dec-2003.html' title='Bangalore in Dec 2003'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113490457932454688</id><published>2005-12-18T16:36:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-12-18T16:48:56.703+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Asangla</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/asie%20with%20J%20&amp;%20me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/asie%20with%20J%20%26%20me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asangla is one of the earliest people to have made a strong impression on my spiritual life . She is a few years older than me and we met at a camp and carried on a friendship from there. God used her to speak into my life at a time when I didn't know where I was going spiritually... I was so lost and overwhelmed and God just used her in a fantastic way. I remember weeping bitter tears when she had to go back from Bombay. Her words to me then were, "Don't cry. It's only here on earth that we have to say goodbye. In heaven we'll never have to say goodbye." She moved back to her hometown, Nagaland - a state in North East India. We continued keeping in touch till she got married and moved to the States. That's when I lost contact with her. I still think of her a lot and miss her sometimes... I miss her most when I need someone to talk to about stuff because I could talk about anything with her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways... here's to Asangla, a great friend. Wish I could get in touch with her but if not, then I know that I'll definitely meet her in heaven.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113490457932454688?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113490457932454688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113490457932454688&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113490457932454688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113490457932454688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/12/asangla.html' title='Asangla'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113444872958829588</id><published>2005-12-13T10:01:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-12-13T10:08:49.606+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Walk with Him</title><content type='html'>I love poetry and though I don't write that much of poetry I like reading other ones... Here's one that I liked and thought I could post it here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The hill was steep, but cheered along the way&lt;br /&gt;By converse sweet, I mounted on the thought&lt;br /&gt;That so it might be till the height was reached;&lt;br /&gt;But suddenly a narrow winding path appeared,&lt;br /&gt;and then the Master said, 'My child,&lt;br /&gt;Here thou wilt safest walk with Me alone.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I trembled, yet my heart's deep trust replied,&lt;br /&gt;'So be it, Lord.' He took my feeble hand In His,&lt;br /&gt;accepting thus my will to yield Him&lt;br /&gt;All, and to find all in Him.&lt;br /&gt;One long, dark moment, And no friend I saw,&lt;br /&gt;save Jesus only.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But oh! so tenderly He led me on&lt;br /&gt;And up, and spoke to me such words of cheer,&lt;br /&gt;Such secret whisperings of His wondrous love,&lt;br /&gt;That soon I told Him all my grief and fear,&lt;br /&gt;And leaned on His strong arm confidingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And then I found my footsteps quickened,&lt;br /&gt;And light ineffable, the rugged way Illumined,&lt;br /&gt;such light as only can be seen&lt;br /&gt;In close companionship with God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A little while, and we shall meet again&lt;br /&gt;The loved and lost; but in the rapturous joy&lt;br /&gt;Of greetings, such as here we cannot know,&lt;br /&gt;And happy song, and heavenly embraces,&lt;br /&gt;And tender recollections rushing back&lt;br /&gt;Of pilgrim life, methinks one memory&lt;br /&gt;More dear and sacred than the rest, shall rise,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And we who gather in the golden streets,&lt;br /&gt;Shall oft be stirred to speak with grateful love&lt;br /&gt;Of that dark day when Jesus bade us climb&lt;br /&gt;Some narrow steep, leaning on Him alone."&lt;br /&gt;"There is no high hill but beside some deep valley.&lt;br /&gt;There is no birth without a pang."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113444872958829588?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113444872958829588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113444872958829588&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113444872958829588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113444872958829588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/12/walk-with-him.html' title='Walk with Him'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113418380702781038</id><published>2005-12-10T08:21:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-12-10T08:57:57.990+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Abide in Jesus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hello wonderful people! I know I've been away and haven't posted anything in a long while. I've really wanted to but I've just been extremely busy. Anyways.. I thought I'll post this verse and invite your comments on what this verse means to you or what you think God's trying to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.' &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://cl.exct.net/?ffcb10-fe6610727262067f7516-fe3215757562047e701776-ff3216797566" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;John 15:5 and 8&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; (&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://cl.exct.net/?ffcb10-fe6510727262067f7517-fe3215757562047e701776-ff3216797566" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NIV&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&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/18071351-113418380702781038?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113418380702781038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113418380702781038&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113418380702781038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113418380702781038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/12/abide-in-jesus.html' title='Abide in Jesus'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113291276338603817</id><published>2005-11-25T14:48:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-25T15:29:23.436+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Be still and know that I am God</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I got this devotional in my email about being still and it really spoke to me.  Most of the time we're so caught up and busy with our lives that we don't take the time to be still and know our God. Especially those of us living in cities know how fast life is. We're always running. We jump out of bed, eat in a hurry, get dressed at top speed, jump onto the tube or the trains, buses, etc... jump out, run to office, flit in and out of cubicles, run back home, get on the internet check email, get annoyed if it takes longer than usual, etc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Even when we read God's word or talk to Him everything is in a hurry and quite impatient at times like God I really need this done. Please do it ASAP! How often are we actually sitting down and being still in His presence and just letting Him show Himself to us in the way He wants us to??? Just sitting and relaxing in His presence&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In many of the Psalms we come across the word Selah. Is there any word in all the Psalter more eloquent than that one word, Selah (Pause)? Is there anything that can touch our hearts as the power of stillness? Something that we have to think about and teach ourselves...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;There is in the deepest center of the soul a chamber of peace where God dwells, and where, if we will only enter in and hush every other sound, we can hear His still, small voice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps. 46:10).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113291276338603817?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113291276338603817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113291276338603817&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113291276338603817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113291276338603817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/11/be-still-and-know-that-i-am-god.html' title='Be still and know that I am God'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113265955616961060</id><published>2005-11-22T17:05:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-22T17:17:04.100+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Think before you judge...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Two tough questions:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Question 1:&lt;/strong&gt; If you knew a woman who was pregnant, who had 8 kids already,three who were deaf, two who were blind, one mentally retarded, and she Had syphilis; would you recommend that she have an abortion?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read the next question before scrolling down to the answer of this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Question 2:&lt;/strong&gt; It is time to elect a new world leader, and your vote counts. Here are the facts about the three leading candidates:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Candidate A: Associates with crooked politicians, and consults with astrologists. He's had two mistresses. He also chain smokes and drinks 8 to 10 martinis a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Candidate B: He was kicked out of office twice, sleeps until noon, used opium in college and drinks a quart of whisky every evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Candidate C: He is a decorated war hero. He's a vegetarian, doesn't smoke, drinks an occasional beer and hasn't had any extramarital affairs. Which of these candidates would be your choice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decide first, no peeking, then scroll down for the answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Candidate A is Franklin D. Roosevelt, Candidate B is Winston ChurchillCandidate, C is Adolph Hitler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And by the way: Answer to the abortion question if you said yes, you just killed Beethoven. Pretty interesting isn't it. Makes a person think before judging someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not to say that you should approve of vices but to actually see the person inside rather than judging someone based on externals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113265955616961060?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113265955616961060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113265955616961060&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113265955616961060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113265955616961060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/11/think-before-you-judge.html' title='Think before you judge...'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113265910184024510</id><published>2005-11-22T17:00:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-22T17:01:41.840+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Male or Female?</title><content type='html'>Are u male or a female?  This is called the quick eye exam............................. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick Eye Exam... &lt;br /&gt;This will blow your mind...! &lt;br /&gt;Just do it - don't cheat!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Try this its actually quite good. &lt;br /&gt;But don't cheat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Count the number of F's in the following text in 15 seconds: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FINISHED FILES ARE THE &lt;br /&gt;RESULT OF YEARS OF SCIENTIFIC &lt;br /&gt;STUDY COMBINED WITH THE &lt;br /&gt;EXPERIENCE OF YEARS &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Managed it? &lt;br /&gt;Scroll down only after you have counted them! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; OK? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many?    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three? (You r definitely male!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Wrong, there are six - no joke! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read again! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; FINISHED FILES ARE THE  RESULT OF YEARS OF SCIENTIFIC  STUDY COMBINED WITH THE  EXPERIENCE OF YEARS &lt;br /&gt;The reasoning is further down... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The MALE brain cannot process the word "OF". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incredible or what? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who counts all six F's on the first go has a  brain of a Female &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can test this by asking a Guy/Girl near you to  work it out.  It really works!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113265910184024510?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113265910184024510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113265910184024510&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113265910184024510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113265910184024510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/11/male-or-female.html' title='Male or Female?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113265894752879193</id><published>2005-11-22T16:55:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-22T16:59:07.550+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Living in the Internet age?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You know you're living in 2005 when...  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1. You accidentally enter your password on the microwave. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;2. You haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of 3. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that they don't have e-mail addresses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. You go home after a long day at work you still answer the phone in a business manner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. You make phone calls from home, you accidentally dial "9" to get an outside line. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 8. You've sat at the same desk for four years and worked for three different companies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 10. You learn about your redundancy on the 11 o'clock news. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 11. Your boss doesn't have the ability to do your job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 12. You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if anyone is home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 13. Every commercial on television has a website at the bottom of the screen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 14. Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn't have the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for panic and   you turn around to go and get it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 15. You get up in the morning and go online before getting your coffee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 16. You start tilting your head sideways to smile. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 17. You're reading this and nodding and laughing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 18. Even worse, you know exactly to whom you are going to forward this message. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 19. You are too busy to notice there was no #9 on this list. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 20. You actually scrolled back up to check that there wasn't a #9 on this list.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND NOW U R LAUGHING at yourself.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113265894752879193?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113265894752879193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113265894752879193&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113265894752879193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113265894752879193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/11/living-in-internet-age.html' title='Living in the Internet age?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-113154247106212241</id><published>2005-11-09T18:50:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-09T18:51:11.076+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Gift of Criticism?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was after a church service one morning in which the minister had preached on spiritual gifts that he was greeted at the door by a lady who said, "Pastor, I believe I have the gift of criticism." The pastor looked at her and asked, "Remember the person in Jesus' parable who had the one talent?" The woman nodded her understanding. "Do you recall what he did with it?" "Yes," replied the lady, "he went out and buried it." The pastor suggested, "Go, thou, and do likewise!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we like that sometimes? If yes.. then we need to realize what we are doing and take it to God and ask Him to deal with it. Criticizing is not a gift! If you have an urge to criticize then take a moment to think of your own shortcomings and remember how God deals with us patiently and with grace and mercy.&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/18071351-113154247106212241?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113154247106212241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113154247106212241&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113154247106212241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113154247106212241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/11/gift-of-criticism.html' title='The Gift of Criticism?'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113151469334983811</id><published>2005-11-09T11:06:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-09T11:08:13.350+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Famous People Who Were Slow Starters:</title><content type='html'>- Winston Churchill seemed so dull as a youth that his father thought he might be incapable of earning a living in England.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Charles Darwin did so poorly in school that his father once told him, “You will be a disgrace to yourself and all your family.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- G.K. Chesterton, the English writer, could not read until he was eight. One of his teachers told him, “If we could open your head we should not find any brain but only a lump of white fat.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Thomas Edison’s first teacher described him as “addled,” and his father almost convinced him he was a “dunce.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Albert Einstein’s parents feared their child was dull, and he performed so badly in all high school courses except mathematics that a teacher asked him to drop out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113151469334983811?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113151469334983811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113151469334983811&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113151469334983811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113151469334983811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/11/famous-people-who-were-slow-starters.html' title='Famous People Who Were Slow Starters:'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-113151408715419727</id><published>2005-11-09T10:55:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-09T10:58:07.173+05:30</updated><title type='text'>God's Emergency Phone Numbers</title><content type='html'>When in sorrow - Call John 14&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When people let you down - Call Psalm 27&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to be effective - Call John 15&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you have sinned - Call Psalm 51&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you worry - Call Matthew 6:19-34&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are in danger - Call Psalm 91&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When God seems far away - Call Psalm 139&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When your faith needs strength - Call Hebrews 11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are lonely - Call Psalm 23&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you grow bitter and critical - Call 1 Corinthians 13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The secret to happiness - Call Colossians 3:12-17&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you want peace and rest - Call Matthew 11:25-30&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you travel - Call Psalm 121&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When your faith needs help - Call Psalm 66&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you want courage - Call Joshua 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For harmony at church - Call Romans 12&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are depressed - Call Psalm 27&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are out of money - Call Psalm 37&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you feel angry - Call 1 Corinthians 13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you need encouragement to read Scripture - Call Psalm 19&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For dealing with fear - Call Psalm 34&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For security - Call Psalm 121&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For motivation - Call Mark 8:35&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For wisdom - Call James 1:5&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113151408715419727?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113151408715419727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113151408715419727&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113151408715419727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113151408715419727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/11/gods-emergency-phone-numbers.html' title='God&apos;s Emergency Phone Numbers'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-113151293970354274</id><published>2005-11-09T10:30:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-09T10:39:32.750+05:30</updated><title type='text'>And God made woman...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Women of the world... I know that this is an old article and some of you may have seen it already but I thought I'll post it just to encourage those of you who have regretted being a woman or have had doubts about why you were born a woman... God definitely has a plan and purpose ni making you a woman and if you think you are useless and good for nothing, just take a minute to check below all the wonderful things that God has put inside of you... :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;By the time the Lord made women, he was into his 6th day of working overtime. An Angel appeared and said, "Why are you spending so much time on this one?"And the Lord answered and said, "Have you seen the spec sheet on her? She has to be completely washable, but not plastic, have 200 moveable parts, all replaceable, run on black coffee and leftovers, have a lap that can hold three children at one time, have a kiss that can cure anything from a scraped knee to a broken heart, and have six pair of hands". The Angel was astounded at the requirements for this one. "Six pair of hands! No way! And that's just the standard model?" the Angel asked. The Angel tried to stop the Lord. "This is too much work for one day. Wait until tomorrow to finish." "But I can't!" the Lord protested, "I am so close to finishing this creation that is so close to my own heart. She already heals herself when she is sick AND can work 18-hour days". The Angel moved closer and touched the woman, "but you have made her so soft Lord". "She is soft" the Lord agreed, "but I have also made her tough. You have no idea what she can endure or accomplish." "Will she be able to think?" asked the Angel. The Lord replied, "Not only will she be able to think, she will be able to reason and negotiate. "The Angel then noticed something and reached out and touched the woman's cheek. "Oops, it looks like you have a leak with this model. I told you that you were trying to put too much into this one." "That's not a leak," the Lord objected, "that's a tear!" "What's the tear for?" the Angel asked. The Lord said, "The tear is her way of expressing her joy, her sorrow, her pain, her disappointment, her loneliness, her grief, and her pride. "The Angel was impressed. "You are a genius, Lord. You thought of everything for women - you are truly amazing." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Women have strengths that amaze men. They carry hardships, they carry burdens but they hold happiness, love and joy. They smile when they want to scream.They sing when they want to cry. They cry when they are happy and laugh whenthey are nervous. They fight for what they believe in. They stand up for injustice. They don't take "no" for an answer then they believe there is a better solution. They go without so their family can have. They go to the doctor with a frightened friend. They love unconditionally. They cry when their children excel, and cheer when their friends get awards. They are happy when they hear about a birth or a new marriage. Their hearts break when a friend dies. They have sorrow at the loss of a family member, yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left. They know that a hug and a kiss can heal a broken heart. Women come in all sizes, colors, and shapes. They'll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you to show how much they care about you. The They give compassion and ideals. They give moral support to their family and friends. Women have a lot to say and a lot to give.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113151293970354274?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113151293970354274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113151293970354274&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113151293970354274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113151293970354274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/11/and-god-made-woman.html' title='And God made woman...'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113129093169777808</id><published>2005-11-06T20:53:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-11-07T16:42:14.186+05:30</updated><title type='text'>You are the Potter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Here is an article that's been ready and I've wanted to post this for the longest of times but I'm having trouble with posting pictures.. So I'l just post this without the pictures. Your comments as always are welcome :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“…You are the potter; I am the clay, Make me and mold me…” This is a line that many Christians have declared and reiterated time and again in prayer and in song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The potter and the clay is one of the metaphors used in the Bible to describe our relationship with God. (Isaiah 64:8)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do we mean when tell God that He is the potter and we are the clay? What does pottery have to do with our relationship with God?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pottery is one of the oldest crafts in Biblical times. To make pots, the potter has to find the right kind of clay. He then prepares it by removing the stones and other rough substances. Once that is done, he shapes the pots with his hands on a potter’s wheel. This is a little platform made of wood that you build the pot on; you can turn it around so that instead of having to walk around your pot you can sit still and turn the pot around. That is powered by foot or by an apprentice. If the pot is marred during the making, the potter just squishes the clay and starts over again. Once he achieves what he wants and is satisfied, he makes some designs or decorates the outside of the pot. Many of the designs used on pottery were used to identify people of one group or another or just to whom the pot belongs. He then puts it in a fire so that it is baked. After the baking, the pots are ready for use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This describes our relationship with God. He first chooses us and then prepares us by cleansing us of our impurities. He then starts with the tedious job of giving us shape through the Holy Spirit. Some times being but clay, we tend to be disobedient and take a shape that God doesn’t want us to. But we need to give ourselves to the Potter’s hands, which signifies repentance, coming back to God and surrendering ourselves totally and unconditionally to His hands. It also signifies submitting to His will. It may not be a very pleasant experience and may involve a lot of pain as we go through a process of breaking, molding and remaking. We should keep in mind that just because God has chosen us, we should not take for granted that He is obliged to protect us. If we do things according to our will, He just might have to start with us all over again. Once He is satisfied with the shape we are taking, He makes designs on us and gives us different gifts, which identify both us and our Maker. Each person’s gifts are different from the other. He then pours out his fire on us that not only refines us but also anoints us and makes us ready to be used for His will finally filling us with His awesome glory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Jer. 18:6, the message of God being in control is vividly portrayed as Jeremiah watched a potter start over on a pot that did not take the shape he wanted it to take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rom 9:21 says that the potter has the power over the clay to do as he wishes. God has the right to do with us as He sees fit. We are the clay and He is the potter. He knows what is best for us and so decides what to do with us. We also need to remember that the breaking and molding that we are going through, painful as it will be, is for our good and we should never strive with God or question Him as to why we are going through it (Isaiah 45:9). We must not make light of the Lord’s discipline nor lose heart when He rebukes us, because the Lord disciplines those He loves, and He punishes everyone He accepts as a son (Heb. 12:5,6)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His molding, making &amp; breaking us is for a beautiful purpose. The Bible says in the book of Ephesians: 4, 5, and 6 – “For he chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight. In love He predestined us to be adopted as His sons through Jesus Christ in accordance with His pleasure and will – to the praise of His glorious grace…” Isn’t it marvelous that it is His pleasure i.e. His delight; and His will to make us holy and blameless!&lt;br /&gt;Therefore, let us in all love, humility &amp;amp; obedience yield ourselves to the Potter’s hands so that He can mold, fashion, use, fill, lead and guide us according to His will as Paul says in 2 Timothy 2:21 as instruments of glory for noble purposes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113129093169777808?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113129093169777808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113129093169777808&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113129093169777808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113129093169777808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/11/you-are-potter.html' title='You are the Potter'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-113040601775812832</id><published>2005-10-27T15:03:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-10-27T15:10:17.770+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Noah's Ark</title><content type='html'>Here's something Muriella sent me some time back... Things we can learn from Noah's story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ONE: Don't miss the boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWO: Remember that we are all in the same boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE: Plan ahead. It wasn't raining when Noah built the Ark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOUR: Stay fit. When you're 60 years old, someone may ask you to do something really big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIVE: Don't listen to critics; just get on with the job that needs to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SIX: Build your future on high ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SEVEN: For safety's sake, travel in pairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EIGHT: Speed isn't always an advantage. The snails were on board with the cheetahs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NINE: Remember, the Ark was built by amateurs; the Titanic by professionals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TEN: No matter the storm, when you are with God, there's always a rainbow waiting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-113040601775812832?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113040601775812832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113040601775812832&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113040601775812832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113040601775812832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/10/noahs-ark.html' title='Noah&apos;s Ark'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-113031116086858290</id><published>2005-10-26T10:41:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-10-26T12:49:20.906+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Places you must see if you're in Mumbai</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mumbai has a mixture of architectural styles that reflect the long colonial presence in the city as well as the phenomenal recent growth. One of the most famous landmarks in Mumbai is a structure known as the Gateway of India, &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/gateway1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;often the first sight beheld by sea travelers arriving at the city. Colonial monuments in Mumbai include the Presidency Secretariat, which was built in a Venetian Gothic style and developed into the administrative and legislative headquarters of Bombay State after India’s independence in 1947; the University Hall, in a 15th-century French style; the University Library and Rajabai Clock Tower, &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/uni%20library.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;in an early Gothic design; and the High Court, which has a high tower in an early English style. The pillared Town Hall is in a Greek style and occupies the eastern side of a busy traffic area. Horniman Circle, a famous area where three roads converge, includes the old Mint, the old Customs House, and a castle, which lies at the center of the Fort area. The Victoria Terminus, known as VT and renamed Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus in 1996, is adjacent to St. George’s and Dadabhai Navroji roads. Beside one of Mumbai’s busiest traffic nodes, where seven roads converge, is the terminus of India’s Central Railway. The Municipal Building, a combination of Oriental and Gothic architecture, stands in front of the terminus, and has a 78-m (256-ft) high stone dome. In the southeast part of the city, on the east side of Back Bay along Netaji Subhashchandra Bose Road (formerly known as Marine Drive), lie the low-rise skyscrapers of the 1940s, while in the southwest of the peninsula are the Malabar and Cumbala hills. Marine Drive is also known as Queen's necklace because of it's shape and how it looks when it is lit up at night. The hills were once home to Europeans when living quarters in the Fort area became congested; now well-to-do Indians reside here. The Parsi Towers of Silence, a sacred place where the Parsi people lay out their dead, Hindu Babulnath Temple, the Hanging Gardens, and Kamala Nehru Park, which features a scenic view of Mumbai, are all located on Malabar Hill. To the west are the Elephanta cave temples dating from the 8th century on a small island off the Mumbai Harbor. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/haji%20ali2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/haji%20ali2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Haji Ali&lt;/strong&gt; is across a rocky path that meanders into the sea from Mahalaxmi Temple, you can see a cluster of ethereal white domes floating on the water. This is Haji Ali Dargah, the tomb of a wealthy Muslim merchant, who renounced all his worldly belongings before embarking on a pilgrimage to Mecca. The tomb itself is over eight hundred years old and linked to the mainland by a path that is annually submerged in the high monsoon tide. Inside the central shrine, throngs of worshippers stoop to press their heads against the richly brocaded red and green chaddor covering the tomb, which lies in an exquisite silver frame engraved with all the ninety-nine names of Allah. The faithful then tie little red ribbons on wooden lattices to honour the soul of Haji Ali.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/mumbai%20uni.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/mumbai%20uni.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The University of Mumbai (founded in 1857) has two campuses, one in the old Fort area and a new campus, established in the 1970s, north of Mâhîm Creek in Vidya Nagari. There are several other colleges, including medical colleges, located in Mumbai. Hospitals specializing in cancer treatment receive patients from all over India. Haffkine Institute in Parel specializes in vaccine research. The Prince of&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/prince%20of%20wales%20museum.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Wales Museum is also located in Mumbai and contains valuable art, archaeology, and natural history sections. Mumbai is the birthplace of orchestra conductor Zubin Mehta and English writer and Nobel laureate Rudyard Kipling. It is also the center of movie production in India and aptly nicknamed the "Hollywood of India," or "Bollywood." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prince of Wales Museum&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/prince%20of%20wales%20museum.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/prince%20of%20wales%20museum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/prince%20of%20wales%20museum.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/prince%20of%20wales%20museum.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/prince%20of%20wales%20museum.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&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;strong&gt;Gateway of India&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/gateway2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/gateway2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marine Drive&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/Marine%20drive1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/Marine%20drive1.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;&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;strong&gt;Elephanta caves&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/elephanta%20caves1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/elephanta%20caves1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rajabai Clock Tower&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/rajabai%20clock%20tower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/rajabai%20clock%20tower.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/18071351-113031116086858290?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/113031116086858290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=113031116086858290&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113031116086858290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/113031116086858290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/10/places-you-must-see-if-youre-in-mumbai.html' title='Places you must see if you&apos;re in Mumbai'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-112990977329010736</id><published>2005-10-21T21:14:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-10-26T10:41:16.036+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Mumbai city</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Since I live in Mumbai and absolutely love the place I thought I'd do a post on this city that I'm so passionate about. Also don't want to overwhelm you and so will split it into parts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ancient yet modern, fabulously rich yet achingly poor, Mumbai is India in microcosm. Mumbai or Bombay, city in western India, capital of Mahârâshtra State and financial capital and premier port of India, located on the Arabian Sea. The city of Bombay originally consisted of seven islands called Colaba, Mazagaon, Old Woman's Island, Wadala, Mahim, Parel, and Matunga-Sion. This group of islands has been joined together by a series of reclamations. In 1534 the Portuguese took Bombay by force of arms from the Mohammedans. This led to the establishment of numerous churches which were constructed in areas where the majority of people were Roman Catholics. Only one church with Portuguese-style facade still remains i.e. St. Andrew's church at Bandra. They named their new possession as "Bom Baia" which in Portuguese means "Good Bay". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later the islands were given to the English King Charles II in dowry on his marriage to Portuguese Princess Catherine of Braganza in 1662. In the year 1668 the islands were acquired by the English East India Company on lease from the crown for an annual sum of 10 pounds in gold. The British corrupted the Portuguese name "Bom Baia" to "Bombay". The Zoroastrian Towers of Silence on Malabar hill were built by Seth Modi Hirji Vachha in 1672. Sir Robert Grant governed Bombay from 1835 to 1838 and was responsible for the construction of a number of roads between Bombay and the hinterland. The Thana and Colaba Causeways were built during his tenure as well as the Grant Medical College. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 1860 it received a piped water supply. The Bombay Gas Company was established in 1862. Railroad networks were established by 1864. In 1865 Bombay was officially recognized as a municipality. In 1873 the Port Trust was established, and Princess and Victoria docks were completed in the 1880s. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bombay changed its name to Mumbai in 1995.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The name Mumbai was developed in reference to a temple of the Hindu goddess Mumba, also known as Parvati, which once stood in the southeastern part of the city. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The older part of the city, occupies an area of 68 sq km (26 sq mi) south of Mâhîm Creek. This area is the densest part of Mumbai, with the highest concentration of population and commercial and industrial activities. Greater Mumbai, including Salsette Island, covers an area of 438 sq km (169 sq mi). The focal point of Mumbai was once the Fort area in the south central part of the city, where commercial and administrative activities were concentrated. When Salsette Island was made part of Mumbai, residential, industrial, and administrative areas developed there as well. Industries mostly lie in Parel and its surrounding area, between Mâhîm Creek in the north and the Fort area in the south. Slums are abundant north of Mâhîm Creek and around the factories, such as in Parel, Dâdra, and Mâtunga. Nearly 35 percent of Greater Mumbai’s population live in slums, some of which remain submerged in knee-deep water during the four-month period of monsoon rains. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mumbai’s island location has constrained its ability to spread and grow over a wide area. Consequently, high-rise residential and commercial constructions are emphasized. Growth in Mumbai proper has declined since the 1950s because of the already high levels of congestion there. In response, there has been a consistently higher growth of population in the outer ring of the metropolis. Part of the reason for this population growth is migrants. Mumbai attracts a large number of migrants not only from within the state of Mahârâshtra but also from many other parts of India. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-112990977329010736?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/112990977329010736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=112990977329010736&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112990977329010736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112990977329010736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/10/mumbai-city.html' title='Mumbai city'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-112990800793929350</id><published>2005-10-21T20:46:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-10-21T20:50:07.946+05:30</updated><title type='text'>inviting your comments</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hey people! This is the verse I got in my daily verse email yesterday. I didn't read it until this morning and it just stayed with me for a long time. So I'll put it down here and I'll invite comments on what this verse means or what comes to your mind to those of you who see it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psalm 51:12 (NIV) &lt;/strong&gt;&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/18071351-112990800793929350?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/112990800793929350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=112990800793929350&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112990800793929350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112990800793929350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/10/inviting-your-comments.html' title='inviting your comments'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-112989425263064631</id><published>2005-10-21T15:24:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-10-21T20:28:00.686+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Joel!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/joel1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/joel1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok! Joel!!! For all the trouble you gave me over the years - This is payback time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joel is my brother. He is 3 years younger than me but for the most part acts like he is 3 years older than me. But it's really sweet because he watches out for me. I know that growing up I always wanted an older brother and probably did not value him as much. But now I do realize his value and thank God for bringing him in  my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joel is studying at the Xavier's college in Mumbai and he is doing something to the equivalent of computer engineering (according to my very non-IT head). I think he has another year or so to go before he completes this course and gets his bachelors. Joel you can correct me and give me the exact tech details :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh there are days he can drive me crazy but then I guess I exasperate him too sometimes... I have to add that he is a very good guitarist and is a worship leader at church. He's got one of the most passionate natures I've ever seen. I think him and Vero are in stiff competition in my opinion of who is more passionate. He loves reading up on various things, getting into these deep theological, philosophical type of discussions, loves music, etc... I think we are as different from each other as day and night. But the most amazing thing is his relationship with God and his hunger to know more about the truth.. That's always been something that I can learn from... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy this Joel! you'll probably never hear me talk about you this way again.. lol!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-112989425263064631?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/112989425263064631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=112989425263064631&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112989425263064631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112989425263064631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/10/joel.html' title='Joel!!!!!!'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-112981162627024011</id><published>2005-10-20T17:37:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-10-20T22:00:31.063+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Veronique</title><content type='html'>Here's another lovely girl that I know. Her name is Veronique and most of us call her Vero! She is a fantastic person. Very affectionate, beautiful person, even more beautiful heart, unique, motivated, I mean the list can go on and on. I met her through my cousin Sujatha. We first started emailing when she made plans to come to India and even though I only spent part of one day I never felt awkward about talking to this person I had never met before which would usually be the case with me. It was just like both of us were connected in some way and now of course we keep in touch through emails and blogging. You can check out her blog which is one of the most liveliest and interesting blogs I've ever seen. The link to it is www.v-ronik.blogspot.com She comes from a lovely island called Martinique which is a french island some place in the Carribeans if I'm not mistaken.. Correct me if I'm wrong Vero! She lives in London now and works there. And she is a very passionate person! She never ceases to amaze me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Vero and I outside a shopping center in Bombay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 93px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 154px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="100" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/Vero%20and%20me1.jpg" width="28" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/Vero%20and%20me.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/Suj%20&amp;amp;%20me-gateway%20of%20india%20dec%2004.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-112981162627024011?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/112981162627024011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=112981162627024011&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112981162627024011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112981162627024011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/10/veronique.html' title='Veronique'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-112980623104231612</id><published>2005-10-20T15:57:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-10-20T16:46:11.526+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Sujatha</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sujatha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/sujatha%20gypsy%20skirt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/sujatha%20gypsy%20skirt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Suj &amp; I at the Gateway of India in Dec 2004&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/Suj%20&amp;amp;%20me-gateway%20of%20india%20dec%2004.jpg"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/Suj%20%26%20me-gateway%20of%20india%20dec%2004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to introduce to you the first person who left a comment on my blog. She is a very special person and some one who I love and treasure. She is my cousin and her name is Sujatha. We are related because her mom and my mom are sisters. But our relationship is special. I can't describe it in mere words because I don't think that words will do justice but I'll try... We are like friends sometimes, like sisters sometimes, like mentor and student sometimes and like parent and child sometimes... She lives in London and works there too. She is on the faculty for the City University. She is coming down to India in December though and I'm really excited to be spending time with her again after a year.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-112980623104231612?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/112980623104231612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=112980623104231612&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112980623104231612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112980623104231612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/10/sujatha.html' title='Sujatha'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18071351.post-112980386704919842</id><published>2005-10-20T15:52:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-10-20T15:54:27.050+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Rejoicing in each day</title><content type='html'>I got this in my daily devotion via email and thought I could share it with those of you who come here....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://bible.gospelcom.net/bible?version=NIV&amp;language=English&amp;amp;passage=Psalm+118:19-29" target="_blank"&gt;Psalm 118:19-29&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is the day which the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it" (v. 24). When you are having one of those difficult days--a day when the storm is blowing and the battle is raging, when the burdens are heavy, when your heart is broken and your tears are flowing, when it feels like everybody is turned against you, including your Heavenly Father--that's the time to heed this verse by faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The psalmist was going through battles and difficulties, yet he was able to say, "If God put this day together, I'm going to rejoice and be glad in it. Even though I may not see the blessing now, eventually by faith I'll be able to say, 'It all worked together for good.' So I'll say it now."&lt;br /&gt;Jews sing this psalm at Passover. Jesus also sang this song before He was crucified. Can you imagine saying on your way to Calvary, "This is the day which the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it"? That's another way of saying, "Not my will, but Your will be done." If Jesus sang this song, we should sing it also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps your day is full of overwhelming burdens or sorrows. Jesus also suffered days like that. Accept the day God has given you and acknowledge that He is in charge. Anticipate what God is going to do for you today; rejoice and be glad in it. You may not understand His purposes now, but one day you will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-112980386704919842?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/112980386704919842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=112980386704919842&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112980386704919842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112980386704919842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/10/rejoicing-in-each-day.html' title='Rejoicing in each day'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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-18071351.post-112979675503386937</id><published>2005-10-20T13:20:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-10-20T14:43:50.116+05:30</updated><title type='text'>I've arrived on the blogging scene</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/1600/carmel%20-%20jun%2002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2994/1759/320/carmel%20-%20jun%2002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok people! I've finally arrived on the blogging scene. Loads of people I know have been doing this for some time and I've gone back and forth between going for it and not but here I am finally!&lt;br /&gt;This thing is new to me so please bear with me if I do take time to settle into this thing. I want my blog to be lively and pleasant and clean and I would also encourage visitors to give me new ideas and suggestions if they have any...&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to put up pictures of people first who mean a lot to me and then slowly go on to other things... but for now i'm trying to post my picture on this blog and I hope it works out. So that's where I am at right now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18071351-112979675503386937?l=carmeline.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/feeds/112979675503386937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18071351&amp;postID=112979675503386937&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112979675503386937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18071351/posts/default/112979675503386937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://carmeline.blogspot.com/2005/10/ive-arrived-on-blogging-scene.html' title='I&apos;ve arrived on the blogging scene'/><author><name>Carmel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14157766470281448170</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></feed>
