<?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-14129720</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:49:01.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Musings...</title><subtitle type='html'>Ramblings of a different era. Very obsolete now.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>S Barathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10606245187845272690</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>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14129720.post-2924501645850789932</id><published>2007-05-12T00:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-12T00:32:02.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A new one, my favourite:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://themusicianseye.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://themusicianseye.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14129720-2924501645850789932?l=srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/feeds/2924501645850789932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14129720&amp;postID=2924501645850789932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/2924501645850789932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/2924501645850789932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/2007/05/new-one-my-favourite.html' title=''/><author><name>S Barathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10606245187845272690</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-14129720.post-114541415974584594</id><published>2006-04-18T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T15:52:18.217-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>New blogspot, from the more normal and "ground level" part of me  :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://everydaygraphs.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://everydaygraphs.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14129720-114541415974584594?l=srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/feeds/114541415974584594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14129720&amp;postID=114541415974584594' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/114541415974584594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/114541415974584594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/2006/04/new-blogspot-from-more-normal-and.html' title=''/><author><name>S Barathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10606245187845272690</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-14129720.post-114525741870078174</id><published>2006-04-16T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T15:52:18.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;No comments on this  please, friends.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;beaten up...&lt;br /&gt;eyes full of tears...&lt;br /&gt;wounds in every part...&lt;br /&gt;the last leg of the journey...&lt;br /&gt;strength in no cell...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;beaten black and blue...&lt;br /&gt;every time an attempt is made&lt;br /&gt;to get up...&lt;br /&gt;and live on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arrows from every direction...&lt;br /&gt;blood...the same red shade&lt;br /&gt;that makes up a romantic red rose...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;every harmony conflicts with&lt;br /&gt;some basic discordant note...&lt;br /&gt;eyes close...&lt;br /&gt;eyelids batting in a desperate attempt to&lt;br /&gt;keep open...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the earth opening up..,&lt;br /&gt;revealing a coffin with thorns from the inside&lt;br /&gt;pallid and senseless...but still subject to pain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short... I want my mother...&lt;br /&gt;take me into your arms...&lt;br /&gt;please... please...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I surrender...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14129720-114525741870078174?l=srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/feeds/114525741870078174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14129720&amp;postID=114525741870078174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/114525741870078174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/114525741870078174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/2006/04/no-comments-on-this-please-friends.html' title=''/><author><name>S Barathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10606245187845272690</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-14129720.post-114135036443476223</id><published>2006-03-02T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T15:52:18.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Honeymoon with an abhorred angel...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I hated him... hated every part of our rendezvous... every touch... I ran away from him... strangely enough, he must have loved me a lot... he stayed back... tried doing every bit to make me feel good... to comfort me... and to say "hey... here's something for you... i think u'll love it... now, please smile ? "... But,my budging - out of the question !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He mollycoddled me... he'd say "Don't cry... here's coffee... you love coffee ,right, little girl ? ... coffee in a million varieties.... you'll love it... come now...pick and choose ? " ... he'd say "There's soft jazz to give you company in every part of my world... I &lt;em&gt;know &lt;/em&gt;it drives my sweetheart into a trance..." he'd show me streets with a million  musicians playing to their heart's content... uninhibited... expressing every iota of imagination and...passion...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He'd show me a greenish blue ocean bordered by a line of mountains... he'd show me the blissful coexistence of the bright sun and a chilly but gentle wind...  yes... I found it very cold when I initially set foot... now I can appreciate the beautiful interplay of moderate heat and the chilly cold Pacific winds...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He'd show me a million games I could learn..and play ... and led me to the pleasant realization that I was good at most of them... I felt happy with myself..but would still not smile...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He'd try and say "beauty exists in the world... have a look around you... if honesty and uprightness are the words for that in your directionary, have a look into the hearts of people in my world... pure, crystal clear... how can someone NOT be beautiful if they don't know what dirt is ? " As if I'd listen to him...I'd say "very good".. but don't ...DONT come near me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he persisted... he'd show me the way to look at bonds I was already building which I wouldn't give any importance to... and bonds I was trying to keep, which were shredding me to pieces...but bonds which he feels will persist..."good-hearted idiot" , I complimented him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He showed me people dancing with glee in his world... got me into dancing... and said "Go... you are an artist... let go of yourself... let grace rule...go ! " ... I listened to him... would be all smiles while dancing... but would come back home and say "thanks for everything... but that doesn't permit you to get any closer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He showed me what financial independence means - the pain of being impecunious... and the pleasure of having a great bank balance , single-handedly achieved by one... he'd say " Off you go, Miss. Affluence... go splurge... which one would it be - cookies and cream.. or missisippi mud... or the icecream with walnuts on it ? ". I'd smile... happy in the realization that I was capable of this much and more... but I'd still say " Ok.thanks for saying such nice things... but stay where you are".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He knew my strength - teaching and mentoring people... and got me to teach a few kids... I saw him hiding while I was teaching kids... and feeling completely in control... and my quiet ,hot tears of joy every time a student said " She is the best..."... "Oh..that session was awesome..you are great..." ... "Your approach to the whole thing is fabulous... you are SO brilliant...! " ... "God bless you for making a difference to our lives..." ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His persistence... the beauty of his world... the simplicity thereof... God, how will I ever be in a position to live far from it ? ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;written as I sit in a computer lab on campus... just having deposited my check... nescafe by my side... a tam song playing on my sexy headphones... a week well spent...a good weekend to look forward to ,with some of my best friends... and lots of dancing... and spanish classes and ... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and a smile on my face...  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dedicated to an &lt;u&gt;angel &lt;/u&gt;in a small city on the West Coast of North America.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14129720-114135036443476223?l=srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/feeds/114135036443476223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14129720&amp;postID=114135036443476223' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/114135036443476223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/114135036443476223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/2006/03/honeymoon-with-abhorred-angel.html' title=''/><author><name>S Barathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10606245187845272690</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-14129720.post-114129027228887752</id><published>2006-03-02T01:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T15:52:18.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Immensely inspired...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mystery presented...&lt;br /&gt;the veil of simplicity&lt;br /&gt;to shield pure greatness and class&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the superiority possessed&lt;br /&gt;under a gentle and warm&lt;br /&gt;cover of humility&lt;br /&gt;that accepts all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quiet but steady adherence&lt;br /&gt;to worthy principles&lt;br /&gt;the easygoing style of greatness...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;protection and concern&lt;br /&gt;concealed by an air of comfortable detachment&lt;br /&gt;betrayed only by  eyes that cant lie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I walk the path.. ?&lt;br /&gt;It seems impossible...&lt;br /&gt;but can you challenge reality ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14129720-114129027228887752?l=srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/feeds/114129027228887752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14129720&amp;postID=114129027228887752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/114129027228887752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/114129027228887752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/2006/03/immensely-inspired.html' title=''/><author><name>S Barathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10606245187845272690</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-14129720.post-113698017769889193</id><published>2006-01-11T03:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T15:52:17.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Musings of a Blind Man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I walk the roads alone ?&lt;br /&gt;Why am I this scared ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I fear torture&lt;br /&gt;Or pain ?&lt;br /&gt;What if I fall down ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I doing now ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it better to live alone&lt;br /&gt;Walk alone&lt;br /&gt;Aware that peril beckons&lt;br /&gt;When you walk alone on the road&lt;br /&gt;Braced for it.. and careful enough ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or seek help from the company&lt;br /&gt;Ok…let me travel a bit&lt;br /&gt;To a country with nice, friendly people&lt;br /&gt;They all take so much care…&lt;br /&gt;But when it comes to helping me cross the&lt;br /&gt;Road… why aren’t they helping me ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh… I’m not the only blind man here…&lt;br /&gt;They can’t see me….&lt;br /&gt;Oh…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I do now ?&lt;br /&gt;Ah…let me go to my own land&lt;br /&gt;And seek help&lt;br /&gt;They are not blind&lt;br /&gt;They’ll see me&lt;br /&gt;And help me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I go…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way&lt;br /&gt;I have a dream…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk the road&lt;br /&gt;People willingly hold my hand&lt;br /&gt;Walk me down the road&lt;br /&gt;I tell myself  happily… “why didn’t I come here earlier ?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Half way down the road&lt;br /&gt;Heavy traffic&lt;br /&gt;And the effluvium&lt;br /&gt;Suffocating me&lt;br /&gt;Suffocating my helper too&lt;br /&gt;He runs away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder&lt;br /&gt;He probably is getting&lt;br /&gt;Too affected by the fumes….&lt;br /&gt;Or… doesn’t he like my hand ?&lt;br /&gt;My perfume ?&lt;br /&gt;My smell ? …&lt;br /&gt;What did I do ? …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear a kingsized motorbike…&lt;br /&gt;“hello there.. how are you doing ?”&lt;br /&gt;“you know that if you are found on the&lt;br /&gt;middle of the road, you shall die”&lt;br /&gt;I splutter… “but..i am blind…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Blind…and you crossed half&lt;br /&gt;the distance…who are you kidding ?”&lt;br /&gt;“Where’s my gun ?…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S I L E N C E&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was just blind&lt;br /&gt;Now I couldn’t hear anything&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t smell anything&lt;br /&gt;Not even my favourite perfume&lt;br /&gt;The one that I was wearing that day&lt;br /&gt;Hey… I couldn’t think…&lt;br /&gt;How wonderful my friends would say…&lt;br /&gt;The blind guys’ uninformed talk…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But somewhere in that deep sleep, I realized that my dream was reality…&lt;br /&gt;For neither can I see a dream nor reality…&lt;br /&gt;Everything is…&lt;br /&gt;Blind men realize it half the way down…&lt;br /&gt;And pay a heavy price…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14129720-113698017769889193?l=srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/feeds/113698017769889193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14129720&amp;postID=113698017769889193' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/113698017769889193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/113698017769889193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/2006/01/musings-of-blind-man.html' title=''/><author><name>S Barathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10606245187845272690</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-14129720.post-113263719706724098</id><published>2005-11-21T21:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T15:52:17.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A kid goes from&lt;br /&gt;lower kindergarten to&lt;br /&gt;upper kindergarten...&lt;br /&gt;but he's still a cute li'l&lt;br /&gt;kid...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a student finishes&lt;br /&gt;first year of high school&lt;br /&gt;and moves on to the next&lt;br /&gt;but he's still a student&lt;br /&gt;with academic pressures only&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;again, in college&lt;br /&gt;there isn't much difference between&lt;br /&gt;sophomores and seniors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why is it that once you&lt;br /&gt;finish college&lt;br /&gt;and move on to further&lt;br /&gt;qualify yourself academically&lt;br /&gt;the world suddenly looks at you&lt;br /&gt;as a 'grown-up' individual...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and expects you to be a&lt;br /&gt;block of stone&lt;br /&gt;of infinite stability&lt;br /&gt;and responsibility levels ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why are we 'old' ?&lt;br /&gt;does it seem stupid&lt;br /&gt;if I now want to stop to&lt;br /&gt;stare at lovely looking&lt;br /&gt;flowers or colourful&lt;br /&gt;candies in a supermarket ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why does it seem intolerable&lt;br /&gt;if I throw tantrums for&lt;br /&gt;eating and sleeping ?&lt;br /&gt;why should i do&lt;br /&gt;only the right thing ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;has life decided to give me&lt;br /&gt;no more chances ?&lt;br /&gt;no more wrong steps now ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why is the word 'decisive'&lt;br /&gt;killing me ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to walk the path of life&lt;br /&gt;as it comes&lt;br /&gt;why is there this thought&lt;br /&gt;"its time now..to decide&lt;br /&gt;where you want to go...&lt;br /&gt;what you want to do...&lt;br /&gt;who you want to&lt;br /&gt;be with..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why should i&lt;br /&gt;not behave like a&lt;br /&gt;new student to&lt;br /&gt;a foreign school&lt;br /&gt;who's unable to&lt;br /&gt;forget her old friends&lt;br /&gt;and doesn't want to make&lt;br /&gt;new friends ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is so 'sinful' about this ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why can't i NOT 'not listen to'&lt;br /&gt;"everyone manages fine...&lt;br /&gt;your seniors did&lt;br /&gt;your peers are&lt;br /&gt;and most of your juniors will..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are times when i myself&lt;br /&gt;wonder&lt;br /&gt;why i can't seem to move on&lt;br /&gt;there are other times when i&lt;br /&gt;do make conscious efforts to move on&lt;br /&gt;succeed, externally&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but the heart can't be deluded...&lt;br /&gt;can it ?&lt;br /&gt;mine can't be..its too smart...&lt;br /&gt;to make up for that soft head...!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14129720-113263719706724098?l=srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/feeds/113263719706724098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14129720&amp;postID=113263719706724098' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/113263719706724098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/113263719706724098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/2005/11/kid-goes-from-lower-kindergarten-to.html' title=''/><author><name>S Barathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10606245187845272690</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-14129720.post-113255729937247896</id><published>2005-11-20T23:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T15:52:17.857-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a shore...&lt;br /&gt;i see sand&lt;br /&gt;i see lots of crabs..&lt;br /&gt;which i am scared of..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i see a lot of&lt;br /&gt;shells&lt;br /&gt;which i'm crazy abt&lt;br /&gt;collecting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i also fear&lt;br /&gt;that the shells may&lt;br /&gt;contain some creature&lt;br /&gt;inside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i see a variety of stones&lt;br /&gt;i see sand castles&lt;br /&gt;constantly being made&lt;br /&gt;by effervescent children&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;constantly being washed away by the sea&lt;br /&gt;but which returns the sand in the form of wet mud&lt;br /&gt;which can be better used&lt;br /&gt;to build steadier mud castles...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the reader may not&lt;br /&gt;understand what i'm driving at&lt;br /&gt;...natural, dear friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for i have no clue either...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God...are you listening ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why ????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14129720-113255729937247896?l=srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/feeds/113255729937247896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14129720&amp;postID=113255729937247896' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/113255729937247896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/113255729937247896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/2005/11/shore.html' title=''/><author><name>S Barathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10606245187845272690</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-14129720.post-113238698594308448</id><published>2005-11-18T23:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T15:52:17.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;the bridges of madison county.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;this was written some time in autumn 2004, while I was at Kharagpur, India.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I  read a book today. My first e-book, and the experience crushed to pieces my previous notions, that soft copies of even the best books cannot produce the same magical effect as their hard copies.&lt;br /&gt;   I was constantly being admonished by the sensible person in me, for reading a novel when my examinations are close, but then, there was no way of holding myself back…I was deeply engrossed in the story…I was in a trance!&lt;br /&gt;   The settings were just perfect to make my reading experience pleasurable and magical. A lovely evening breeze, soft lighting, absolute silence and Mr. Robert Kincaid and Mrs. Fransesca Johnson enacting their story in my presence. ‘The Bridges of Madison County’ right in front of my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;   Whether I liked the feel of the story or the depiction of true and intense love or the very characters, representative of the human mind at its crazy and passionate yet mature best, or the author’s marvellous comprehension of the working of the human mind, is unknown to me! All I know is a yearning, for the kind of life Mr. Kincaid lived before he met Mrs. Johnson, and a feeling of amazement that soul mates do locate each other after all. They probably meet at the most unexpected junctures and part no sooner than they meet, much to their agony, but meet nevertheless! It is the lucky few who get to spend a lifetime together!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14129720-113238698594308448?l=srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/feeds/113238698594308448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14129720&amp;postID=113238698594308448' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/113238698594308448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/113238698594308448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/2005/11/bridges-of-madison-county.html' title=''/><author><name>S Barathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10606245187845272690</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-14129720.post-113238648001882931</id><published>2005-11-18T23:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T15:52:17.735-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>'take care,both of you',&lt;br /&gt;said she and left.&lt;br /&gt;hope she had a great day,&lt;br /&gt;the only other girl in his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;evening ,half past five.&lt;br /&gt;I let him go.&lt;br /&gt;to meet the people of the world.&lt;br /&gt;his friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opted to stay back.&lt;br /&gt;To pray for him.&lt;br /&gt;To get some time by myself&lt;br /&gt;before I dedicated&lt;br /&gt;the remainder ofthe evening&lt;br /&gt;To him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Don't take too long,dear'.&lt;br /&gt;The doors of my heart shall close&lt;br /&gt;if you do not return in say,an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prayed.&lt;br /&gt;I reflected upon myself.&lt;br /&gt;I thought about him.&lt;br /&gt;Wondered if he'd&lt;br /&gt;remember hispromise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Half past six.&lt;br /&gt;A  knock on the door.&lt;br /&gt;He came in&lt;br /&gt;He spent a few momentspraying..&lt;br /&gt;.and then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were together&lt;br /&gt;all the time.&lt;br /&gt;We read together.&lt;br /&gt;We danced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We listened to the sea&lt;br /&gt;stared at the stars&lt;br /&gt;and the wisps of cloud&lt;br /&gt;on an otherwise clear sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He let me have my way&lt;br /&gt;the entire evening.&lt;br /&gt;Let me do what I wanted&lt;br /&gt;with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did everything I wanted to&lt;br /&gt;and I had to,in my capacityas his '    '&lt;br /&gt;I succeeded.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say&lt;br /&gt;I am a happy woman this evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dedicated to my six- year old nephew.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14129720-113238648001882931?l=srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/feeds/113238648001882931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14129720&amp;postID=113238648001882931' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/113238648001882931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/113238648001882931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/2005/11/take-careboth-of-you-said-she-and-left.html' title=''/><author><name>S Barathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10606245187845272690</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-14129720.post-113235280180074681</id><published>2005-11-18T14:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T15:52:17.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Barathi Srinivasan , presently pursuing my graduate studies in Electrical Engineering at the University of California, Los Angeles. I am affiliated to the Flight Systems Research Laboratory ,headed by Prof. A. V. Balakrishnan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I completed my B.Tech(Hons.) program in Instrumentation Engineering (Major) and Electronics and Electrical Communication Engineering (Minor) from the Indian Institute of Technology, Kharagpur, India.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on a certain journey... intuitively know where I am headed... but my ideas are still amorphous. I joined the world of blogs after a lot of thought. This is an attempt to see whether public sharing of thoughts might help crystallize my thoughts. Hope it is a fruitful experience !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers !!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14129720-113235280180074681?l=srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/feeds/113235280180074681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14129720&amp;postID=113235280180074681' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/113235280180074681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14129720/posts/default/113235280180074681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srinivasanbarathi.blogspot.com/2005/11/hello.html' title=''/><author><name>S Barathi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10606245187845272690</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></feed>
