<?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-22674066</id><updated>2011-11-20T04:41:41.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Very random thoughts .....</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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>102</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-8361378011061685880</id><published>2011-04-06T01:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T01:32:02.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Other History</title><content type='html'>'My Other History', written and directed by Jake Oorloff opens this Friday! Presented by the &lt;a href="http://www.floatingspace.org/"&gt;Floating Space Theatre Company&lt;/a&gt;, the cast comprises of Thushara Hettihamu, Ruhanie Perera, Freya D'Almeida and Amaz Irshad. The play opens on the 8th of April at 7pm and goes on till the 10th April 2011 at the Park Street Mews warehouse. Tickets priced at Rs 400 and 500 are available at the Park Street Mews restaurant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To see pictures of the rehearsals click &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/floatingspacesl/sets/72157626440099308/"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘My Other History,’ is produced as part of (Un)making Time; a project to support  new theatre-making  initiated by the Sunethra Bandaranaike Trust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To read more about the production and see the press coverage, please click &lt;a href="http://www.floatingspace.org/2011/03/my-other-history/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-8361378011061685880?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/8361378011061685880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=8361378011061685880' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8361378011061685880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8361378011061685880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2011/04/my-other-history.html' title='My Other History'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-2684157719867584834</id><published>2011-02-24T01:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T02:28:55.061-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Review - Gandhi's Children documentary</title><content type='html'>A fairly large group of people gathered in the garden at the German Cultural Centre last evening to watch the premier of the documentary &lt;a href="http://vishnuvasu.net/GandhiChildren.html"&gt;‘Gandhi’s Children’&lt;/a&gt; by &lt;a href="http://vishnuvasu.net/WhoAmI.html"&gt;Vishnu Vasu.&lt;/a&gt; It was about marginalized and oppressed communities in India and looked at what role the non violent movements play in the India of today – in the superpower that it aims to be in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lived in India for three years and traveled all over the country for many years, so what I saw in the documentary was nothing new. I had also watched several documentaries over the years about the caste system in India, including the brilliant &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1552060/"&gt;‘India Untouched’&lt;/a&gt; by Stalin Kurup. But for most people who watched it last night it really opened their eyes to the reality of the caste system in India, which I suppose is not glaringly obvious unless you live there. That is the advantage of living in the digital age – through technology we are more and more aware and made to be aware of our reality. By documenting these realities of people who live and suffer the way they do, generations to come will have the advantage of having that information available and maybe one day it will result in some positive change. The tools to bear witness are many and the mediums through which it can be disseminated to a large audience are easily and readily available and I hope that these activists and everyone engaged in this recognize its vast benefits and use it to full advantage. Today, people have absolutely no ground to deny the existence of anything – such as the fact that caste is still very much practiced in India – because they have been witnessed and shared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What made this documentary a good one were the people that he had spoken to. It was an impressive group of people he had interviewed, save for one or two who should not have been interviewed in the first place.  The academics and sociologists highlighted some very significant and important aspects regarding the marginalized communities in India. For me, something that the documentary succeeded in highlighting was that the caste issue in India is a social issue and not a political one – something that a lot people tend to overlook. An academic who was interviewed spoke about the perfect example – politician Mayawati, the first Dalit to gain great political heights and is now as corrupt as any upper caste politician. Having a member from the lower castes enter politics is not the solution to eliminate oppression as many believe it to be as there is no guarantee that those individuals will be working in the interest of the communities that qualified them to reach that position in the first place. The caste problem in India is a social one and hence why it is still practiced and will continue for decades to come. This is why vision or the overarching goal in the caste struggle is so important – the direction that they believe they should be heading in is, most of the time, the very same place that they are fighting against – and will ultimately decide the outcome of their activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr Vasu has documented some very interesting communities through his documentary and some of the footage is valuable as it a record of rigid system that has systematically discriminated against people on the basis of something that they have been born into. The stories in the documentary - rat eating communities who live in the most unhygienic environments, men whose prescribed occupation by birth is to cremate bodies brought to Varanasi and afterwards sift through the ashes for precious metal that may have been accidently left behind, a community in Kerala severely affected by the pollution of the Coca Cola factory there, a community that has been denied of a school for years because of their rural location, families of victims of the tragedy in Bhopal in 1984 – were an intelligent selection because it shed light into the different types and aspects of discrimination and subjugation faced by the low caste communities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I especially liked the interview with P. V. Rajagopal and seeing on screen the padayathra and how they truly believe that they can have an impact through this non violent movement was fascinating. Whether or not they ultimately succeed in their next march to Delhi in 2012, Rajagopal and his movement will bear witness to hundreds of stories that they will be documenting as they walk hundreds of kilometres on their journey to the capital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I really did not like about the documentary was how the director had personalized it and made it his own story. That was where it was obvious that the overall vision was not properly thought through. I was left wondering whether Mr Vasu was trying to draw parallels between the suffering in his life and the making of the documentary to the suffering of the oppressed people in his documentary. It’s unfortunate that he has had a tough life and kudos to him for not letting his past dictate what he made of his life – but honestly, it did not sit well with the documentary. It was a sob story which came across as a marketing gimmick and compared to the people in the documentary, Mr Vasu has had a privileged life. One should not force the audience to applaud your work by using emotional blackmail – let the audience decide for themselves. From the website to introduction to the documentary to the actual documentary, the director constantly harps of the trials and tribulations of his life and what he encountered in the making of the documentary. The documentary should speak for itself, and by the selling point that the director used, it actually took away a lot from the final product. It was almost as if he is forcing you to feel sorry for him and thereby admire his work and after a while you’re left thinking &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;yes it’s sad but so what? You’re not the only struggling artist in this world.&lt;/span&gt; Why must one appreciate the documentary solely because of the struggle to make it? This is what a lot of us felt when we listened to the beginning of the documentary.  It is truly admirable that despite all that he was faced with, he went ahead with his work but it should have been subtle and understated and that would have gained him and his documentary a lot more respect. This is not the first documentary made about caste in India, nor will it be the last and what should have been highlighted is the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;experience&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; of meeting with these people and the privilege of being able to witness a reality that majority of the people of the world don't see - not your own personal problems.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The documentary by itself was interesting but I don’t think it was well made – the editing, the narration and the script left a lot to be desired. The content was fascinating and what ultimately made it a good documentary. I think language played a significant role – the director would have benefited from having another person look through the script and rewrite it because I found it far too simplistic and disjointed. The director should have also refrained from being the narrator as he was too monotonous and it sounded like he was reading straight off a piece of paper. There were a few interviews where he used subtitles very effectively – and that made the bad narration even more obvious. Taking the ‘making of the documentary’ into consideration, we were told that Mr Vasu had many problems in putting this together and to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he did not have resources or knowledge to get the required expertise this documentary needed in terms of script writing and editing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A blunt speech about the state of affairs of the country started off the premier of the documentary. Vishnu Vasu was outspoken when he said that in a country where we pay taxes to “house the cow shed we call parliament”; there is little or no support available from the state for people like him who pursue a life in the arts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time he got to this speech, the audience had undergone the misfortune of reading several slides on the big screen about the documentary and about the plight of the director, Vishnu Vasu. From his difficulty to funding his dream project to his inability to pay for the DVDs that he had got made for the premier. I say misfortune because of the way this information was related. From “I might be on the breakfast table of my printer so PLZZ buy my DVD” to “Aney pau talk to him today after the film because he might not be there tomorrow” to “A DVD is only 400 bucks a meal at KFC is 1200” to “You look sexy tonight” to “Lets about this documentary over drinks at ssc/bloomfield/otters you have to pay your own BILZ”.  Really, there was more but I will spare the reader.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was rolling my eyes throughout it all and the credibility of the filmmaker was sinking lower and lower in our eyes. When I came to the Goethe to watch this premier I had heard a little about the &lt;a href="http://vishnuvasu.net/TheStory.html"&gt;difficulty&lt;/a&gt; in making this documentary and I always like to see the work of people who had an ambition or vision they felt so strongly about that they somehow with whatever resources available try to make that dream come true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why this need for melodrama? It came across as extremely unprofessional and therefore you begin to watch the documentary with that pre-conceived notion that it was created and made by an immature individual, whom I don’t think Mr Vasu is. To be fair by the director, I think (I hope at least) that this was his attempt at giving his story a humorous approach in that typically Sri Lankan aney aiyo humour – much like an Indu Dharmasena play in my opinion. But it failed, spectacularly. It is not enough to have a good product - how you market it is as important. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gandhi’s Children had a lot of potential to be a great documentary – the conviction of the director and his perseverance to make aware this issue that he feels so strongly about being its biggest advantage. But unfortunately the execution of that vision compromised it. This is a great example of the potential that is not realized and lost because we in Sri Lanka don’t have a very supportive base for the arts. Funding, resources, expertise is extremely difficult and more so if it is a ‘controversial’ topic. This documentary would have greatly benefited if resources had been more available for basic things like editing, scriptwriting and even marketing. There are so many aspiring artists, filmmakers, writers who have great ideas and ambition but lack the support – from financial to technical - to execute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admire Mr Vasu for seeing his ambition right through till the end. This documentary is a good effort and hopefully through the exposure he gains more resources and knowledge to make more and better documentaries because he is clearly a talented man with interesting ideas and a sense of what is important. It’s never easy to start off but he has clearly displayed his powers of perseverance in times of hardship. I hope his next project will document the caste system in Sri Lanka, which in many parts of the country is very much existent and practiced and barely documented other than by a few academics. All in all, ‘Gandhi’s children’ wasn’t groundbreaking but it did leave one with a lot to think about and it succeeded in terms of raising awareness and sharing the plight of discriminated communities which most have chosen to ignore or deny existence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-2684157719867584834?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/2684157719867584834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=2684157719867584834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2684157719867584834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2684157719867584834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2011/02/review-gandhis-children-documentary.html' title='Review - Gandhi&apos;s Children documentary'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-4194320623718982766</id><published>2010-11-04T01:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T04:18:07.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Publicizing porn stars</title><content type='html'>I came across &lt;a href="http://www.dailymirror.lk/index.php/news/7546-porn-stars-in-papers.html"&gt;this news item&lt;/a&gt; in the Daily Mirror today and I was little shocked at this name and shame exercise. Basically what the news item said was - ' &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Colombo court Magistrate today orderd Police Headquarters media unit to publicize 83 faces of local porn stars, in the news papers, in order to trace them."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, just how accurate the identification of these 83 people are is questionable. Secondly, a majority of the people who engage in this work do so not because it had always been their lifes ambition but because circumstances have left them no choice. Poverty is the most common reason that people engage in these activities and most of them are from rural areas and villages and their families are completely unaware of what they are really doing to generate money. It is not the best of occupations but who are we to judge? It is very easy for us to look down upon these people and pass judgment and ask why they can't get a 'proper' job. Jobs are scarce and even those who have graduated from university can't get a job in this country so what hopes do people who have not had equal opportunities in terms of education or occupation have? At least they are not stealing or killing to make some money. To them it is just a job, definitely not an ideal one and for most a job that they are ashamed of and have programed their minds to be disengaged from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do they hope to get out of publishing the names and faces of these porn stars? They will be ostracized and humiliated, along with their families and what is their fate then? If we were a fair society where all wrong doers were equally punished before the law I would say this exercise can at some level be justified. But I really fail to understand what the authorities hope to achieve by publicizing the pictures of these people. Surely a country that can defeat terrorism can trace 83 individuals using the great intelligence services?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We accept rapists and murderers who are in parliament and running our country, and we applaud and cheer on sexists and lewd individuals on television but yet we maintain such a moral high ground when it comes to porn stars. The people who support these name and shame exercises believe that they are cleansing the country of all vices but yet will go home and gratify themselves watching probably the same people that are being 'traced'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-4194320623718982766?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/4194320623718982766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=4194320623718982766' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4194320623718982766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4194320623718982766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2010/11/publicizing-porn-stars.html' title='Publicizing porn stars'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-4885161033207632243</id><published>2010-11-01T22:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T22:07:45.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebrating sexist, lewd live television in Sri Lanka</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Originally published on &lt;a href="http://www.groundviews.org/2010/11/01/celebrating-sexist-lewd-live-television-in-sri-lanka/"&gt;groundviews&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I overhead someone talking about the dramatic finale of Swarnavahini’s Megastar reality show I wanted to know what had happened since I had seen a few episodes of this bizarre show – where arguments and insults that fly freely between the judges and contestants is as much the draw as the singing skills of participants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I checked to see what footage was available online and when browsing websites, and was horrified to come across a video of a comment by Minister Mervyn Silva about fellow MP and contestant Upeksha Swarnamali’s performance. Mervyn Silva expressly notes that he was so charmed by Upeksha’s attire he wished he was an infant and could be breastfed by her. The host of the show, Kamal Addararachchi, is seen to giggle at this outrageously derogatory comment. This, to be clear, is a programme broadcast live on public television.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not a fan of Upeksha’s, but I was embarrassed for her and offended. I won’t comment on Kamal Addarachchi’s lewd behavior on stage because pandering to Mervyn Silva’s antics and comments is par for the course on this show. The video clip shows Rosy Senanayake, also a judge, noting that the comment really wasn’t funny and was uncalled for. Just watching the way Mervyn reacted to her demonstrated again that he does not have an iota of respect for women, or for that matter common decency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After watching the video I ended up reading quite a few reviews and articles about the show and the comments made by viewers. What appalled me was that not in a single place, except in an article in the Daily FT which said that the Minister had made a rude remark at Upeksha, could I find anyone referring to this horrendous incident and saying it was offensive or wrong. In fact from the little I did manage to find, people found it funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This for me is a new low for mainstream journalism in Sri Lanka. When did sexist, lewd and offensive behavior broadcast live on public television be accepted normal? Why is such behavior condoned and promoted by the media just for the sake of popularity and ratings? More importantly, why hasn’t anyone taken up this issue with the TV station or sought to flag it for public debate? What Mervyn said was downright revolting. There is something tragically depraved about the way people perceive this incident, and by extension, it scares me that this is a reflection of the true mentality and regard the majority have for women in this country. Men and women are equally to blame for this, and as a woman I’m ashamed that we have let this sort of behavior slide over and over again, to a point where we don’t even see anything out of the ordinary when incidents like this occur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This particular incident and people’s reaction to it, in my opinion, is exemplary of the state of the country today. We can’t stop the likes of Mervyn Silva expressing his true colors, but why give a platform for and condone repeatedly incidents where people can be publicly humiliated for the sake of a twisted notion of entertainment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch video &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aafMOzJagkk&amp;feature=player_embedded"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-4885161033207632243?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/4885161033207632243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=4885161033207632243' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4885161033207632243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4885161033207632243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2010/11/celebrating-sexist-lewd-live-television.html' title='Celebrating sexist, lewd live television in Sri Lanka'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-19248409698332251</id><published>2010-01-27T01:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T01:54:15.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I think the government is really lucky</title><content type='html'>... that they found most of the army deserters that they couldn't track down before all gathered at Cinnamon Lakeside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-19248409698332251?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/19248409698332251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=19248409698332251' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/19248409698332251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/19248409698332251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-think-government-is-really-lucky.html' title='I think the government is really lucky'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-5743579412901796697</id><published>2010-01-24T05:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T06:07:11.661-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If MR or SF wanted a few more votes</title><content type='html'>.. they should have just opened their eyes and realized that recorded phone calls and texts and the posters don't cut it for us anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blink and you will miss 50 posters and 3 billboards. Seeing their faces plastered everywhere in different angles and backdrops? That's sure to get my vote. Because an election is all about the Mr Photogenic competition.  What they should have done was, the unexpected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Declare a poster, advertisement, billboard, sms free campaign. And donate all those billions to the Cancer hospital and the Health sector, where people are dying everyday because they can't buy that 500 rupees worth medicine that they can't get from the government hospitals that no longer have the money to stock them. I find it criminal that people are paid 1000 rupees a DAY to paste posters of the candidates when patients are screaming out in pain because they can't get that painkiller. And this is just not just one or two. There are actually thousands of people all over the country who are facing this right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wouldn't matter to me that the candidate did it solely to win election votes and that he would not have done it otherwise. Because its win win for me. You spend your allocated billions on people who really need it, who in turn will be so grateful and vote for you. And then you win over people like me, who had no intention to vote for you ever, just because you thought of spending that money that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounds very basic, but it works. All people can talk about now are who to vote for and about the truly absurd amount of billions that are being spent. Spend it on what really needs to be spent on right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what wins your vote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and, did everyone get the Sunday Observer FREE at every Keells today?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-5743579412901796697?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/5743579412901796697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=5743579412901796697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/5743579412901796697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/5743579412901796697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2010/01/if-mr-or-sf-wanted-few-more-votes.html' title='If MR or SF wanted a few more votes'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-6041482896057395667</id><published>2009-10-30T00:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T02:06:36.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We must indeed be a great nation</title><content type='html'>if we're now &lt;a href="http://www.dailymirror.lk/DM_BLOG/Sections/frmNewsDetailView.aspx?ARTID=66260"&gt;beating mentally retarded people and forcing them to drown in the sea&lt;/a&gt;. I heard an account from someone who saw from a building. I saw the video and it makes me sick. Leave aside the fact that the man was possibly mentally retarded, you don't do that to anyone. I hear of shit everyday, from torture to murder. But this I think is a real piece of work. Its a testament to the great nation that we truly are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-6041482896057395667?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/6041482896057395667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=6041482896057395667' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/6041482896057395667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/6041482896057395667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2009/10/we-must-indeed-be-great-nation.html' title='We must indeed be a great nation'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-8599936974774165289</id><published>2009-06-30T02:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T02:43:14.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bus tales</title><content type='html'>So there I was on the bus minding my own business when I felt a bit of my hair being pulled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was nothing new, I always find strands of my hair getting caught to people’s hands and bodies when I leave it down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I tie it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Few seconds later I feel the pull again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel my back but nothing is caught. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pull again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look back and at the same time I see this old lady giving a big whack to the guy sitting behind me (on his head that too!) with her umbrella. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;*WTF&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she whacks him she says "thamusegey molay amaaruwakda?". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Light dawns on me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sooo, the bastard who got whacked was pulling my hair. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I could glare at him, the old lady turns to me rather menacingly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;*Shit, hope she doesn’t think I encouraged the greasy hair puller &lt;note to self – wash hair with disinfectant&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turns to me and says “atha diga arala denna puthey” and proceeded to get off the bus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I burst out laughing and so did all the people around me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a cool old lady.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-8599936974774165289?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/8599936974774165289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=8599936974774165289' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8599936974774165289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8599936974774165289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2009/06/bus-tales.html' title='Bus tales'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-60532081793557675</id><published>2009-05-04T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T20:58:44.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Misplaced spirit of Vesak</title><content type='html'>There is a crisis situation going on, with more than 1 lakh people in camps and in need of a lot things. I look around me as I drive to work and what do I see? The people getting ready for Vesak. I see pandols being constructed, I see banners for dan sal. A pandol costs around 2 lakhs I'm told, and that's not taking into consideration the electricity. A dan sal feeds thousands of people, who are not starving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are the priorities of these people? In an emergency situation, can we for once, put aside these cultural traditions and think about where we should be directing our efforts into? Its not like anyone is asking for vesak to be banned ... I'm just saying that maybe this unnecessary spending should be used for those who really need it. Vesak is not about pandols and dan sal ... in the true spirit of Buddhism, shouldn't we be helping those who really need us right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were in one of those camps, how would you feel if you knew that Colombo was full of pandols and people eating excessively for free? I think people's priorities are really messed up at times like this .... life must go on I know, but these are not normal times and it amazes me how anyone can spend so much on unnecessary things like feeding people for free when they don't need it. Especially when all we hear are about how the bad the situation is in the camps. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was glad to hear about one village who collected money for the annual dan sal but instead of having it for their villagers, they're sending the food to the IDP camps. I wish more people would think like this. If the Vanni was Colombo, I don't think we'll understand if the people in the North were doing all this while we were starving and dying off one by one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-60532081793557675?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/60532081793557675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=60532081793557675' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/60532081793557675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/60532081793557675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2009/05/misplaced-spirit-of-vesak.html' title='Misplaced spirit of Vesak'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-1825481580322395798</id><published>2008-10-04T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T09:24:15.148-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beatings for those who litter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeWqa74ZEI/AAAAAAAAANY/wwjsJLhcx_0/s1600-h/DSC04115.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeWqa74ZEI/AAAAAAAAANY/wwjsJLhcx_0/s320/DSC04115.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253333145880126530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'May nothing good happen to the families of those who litter here'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeWqyjf1JI/AAAAAAAAANg/1lWDdrybARY/s1600-h/DSC04119.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeWqyjf1JI/AAAAAAAAANg/1lWDdrybARY/s320/DSC04119.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253333152220304530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Dumping garbage here is for dogs only'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" &lt;br /&gt;href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeUOyxxOCI/AAAAAAAAAMw/N-ymWHGBcYs/s1600-h/DSC04086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeUOyxxOCI/AAAAAAAAAMw/N-ymWHGBcYs/s320/DSC04086.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253330472220571682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'We're hiding and waiting, those who litter will get beaten'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeUO3mL3II/AAAAAAAAAM4/hCmhSqI2n1g/s1600-h/DSC04089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeUO3mL3II/AAAAAAAAAM4/hCmhSqI2n1g/s320/DSC04089.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253330473514163330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeUPM9K8kI/AAAAAAAAANA/pKkMAG0qRWU/s1600-h/DSC04098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeUPM9K8kI/AAAAAAAAANA/pKkMAG0qRWU/s320/DSC04098.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253330479247716930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Those who litter here, may their children get struck by lightening, may their vehicles be reduced to smithereens and their heads smashed'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeUPa2N8qI/AAAAAAAAANI/P69Jegvo1gA/s1600-h/DSC04102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeUPa2N8qI/AAAAAAAAANI/P69Jegvo1gA/s320/DSC04102.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253330482976649890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Beatings for those who litter'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeUPqp0OjI/AAAAAAAAANQ/BYoaerxDx84/s1600-h/DSC04107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeUPqp0OjI/AAAAAAAAANQ/BYoaerxDx84/s320/DSC04107.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253330487219599922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Beatings for the mothers of those who litter here'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-1825481580322395798?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/1825481580322395798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=1825481580322395798' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/1825481580322395798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/1825481580322395798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2008/10/beatings-for-those-who-litter.html' title='Beatings for those who litter'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SOeWqa74ZEI/AAAAAAAAANY/wwjsJLhcx_0/s72-c/DSC04115.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-4131067758738480977</id><published>2008-09-25T02:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T02:56:07.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>'Pain' of Sri Lanka aid pullout</title><content type='html'>A must read. A first hand account of humanitarian agencies departure from Kilinochchi. Source: BBC News Online &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/nolpda/ifs_news/hi/newsid_7630000/7630187.stm"&gt;http://news.bbc.co.uk/nolpda/ifs_news/hi/newsid_7630000/7630187.stm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-4131067758738480977?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/4131067758738480977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=4131067758738480977' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4131067758738480977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4131067758738480977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2008/09/pain-of-sri-lanka-aid-pullout.html' title='&apos;Pain&apos; of Sri Lanka aid pullout'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-2214905362397588735</id><published>2008-08-19T04:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T04:33:16.149-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Susanthika in the Semi finals!</title><content type='html'>Yay! I think right now I'm more thrilled that I  actually got to watch it live. We were calculating time differences and what not at work, and didn't really think that the tv would give trouble when we did troop in at 4.30! With 7 minutes to go (yes, we ARE very precise) we bothered every single person possible and managed to get a somewhat grainy and clear enough picture in time to see Susanthika's name be announced. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a better ending than this morning, where everyone got the timings wrong and ended up gasping at 7.45am when Daily Mirror news alerts proudly announced that Susanthika has come second in the heat. Talk about a rude shock when you're rushing to work to make it on time to watch at the supposed right time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bets have obviously been made and I keep knocking on wood everytime someone opens their mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love any sporting event, I can watch them for hours. But "any" equals to my favorite sports obviously. Tennis finals see me shouting for Federer till I am hoarse, and then handing over tissues (no really) to my heart broken Nadal loving friend, who actually cried the last time. I have to really root for someone to show this level of excitement, and well, when it comes to something of the magnitude of the Olympics, its always nice to cheer for someone from your country! Phelps is great and all, but its not the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We look forward to the next two days! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, Go Susanthika!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-2214905362397588735?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/2214905362397588735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=2214905362397588735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2214905362397588735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2214905362397588735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2008/08/susanthika-in-semi-finals.html' title='Susanthika in the Semi finals!'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-8875158027715133615</id><published>2008-08-19T02:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T03:31:52.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Accomodation in Colombo for US$ 10 a day</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CIromi%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="Street" downloadurl="http://www.5iantlavalampft-com:office:smarttags"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="address" downloadurl="http://www.5iamas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place" downloadurl="http://www.5iantlavalamp.com/"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City" downloadurl="http://www.5iamas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Finding accommodation in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Colombo&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; is not an easy task. Safety, cleanliness, value for money, distance to public transport are all issues which are rarely solved in one go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;If you’re looking for accommodation with all the said issues in mind, the ideal place exists, tucked away in Dehiwala, just 20-30 minutes from the heart of Colombo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Situated in a quiet residential area, the &lt;st1:street st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:address st="on"&gt;Galle Road&lt;/st1:address&gt;&lt;/st1:street&gt; is a two minute walk away. A bonus that comes with the location is that if you walk further down the road, away from the direction of the &lt;st1:street st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:address st="on"&gt;Galle   Road&lt;/st1:address&gt;&lt;/st1:street&gt;, you get the beach. Walk up the road and you will find yourself at a main bus stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This ground floor apartment is tastefully and cozily decorated, making you feel right at home. The apartment is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;fully furnished &lt;/span&gt;with a sitting room, kitchen (with dining area), bedroom and attached bathroom. There is also a small seating area on the terrace outside the front door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This apartment is up for rent for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SLR 1000 a day for short lets or SLR 25,000 a month for long lets&lt;/span&gt; (US$ 10 a day, US$ 250 a month). The rent is inclusive of electricity, water and TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;For those interested please email on woolly.y@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;woolly.y@gmail.com&gt;&lt;/woolly.y@gmail.com&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqb7HOr8_I/AAAAAAAAAIw/hdujC9GQ3qc/s1600-h/mail.google.com.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 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href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqZ93mN2mI/AAAAAAAAAHg/vxHn6D9rgno/s1600-h/mail.google.com.jpeg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqa0joz7ZI/AAAAAAAAAII/rJP5euHqCCo/s1600-h/pic5.jpeg"&gt;  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqa1YEWlqI/AAAAAAAAAIo/y3zplgVbtrk/s1600-h/pic9.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqa1YEWlqI/AAAAAAAAAIo/y3zplgVbtrk/s320/pic9.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236167758556075682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqa1QQbGxI/AAAAAAAAAIY/wNXacMP2DJ4/s1600-h/pic7.jpeg"&gt;          &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 199px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqa1QQbGxI/AAAAAAAAAIY/wNXacMP2DJ4/s320/pic7.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236167756459219730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                              &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqZ-dw8jnI/AAAAAAAAAIA/IN6n3K4T2w8/s1600-h/pic3.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqZ-dw8jnI/AAAAAAAAAIA/IN6n3K4T2w8/s320/pic3.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236166815192485490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqZ-NuDNaI/AAAAAAAAAHw/a-zKX9P21g8/s1600-h/pic2.jpeg"&gt;              &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 318px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqZ-NuDNaI/AAAAAAAAAHw/a-zKX9P21g8/s320/pic2.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236166810885371298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqa0joz7ZI/AAAAAAAAAII/rJP5euHqCCo/s1600-h/pic5.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqa0joz7ZI/AAAAAAAAAII/rJP5euHqCCo/s320/pic5.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236167744481914258" border="0" /&gt;          &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqa0x66enI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/qLMPw4Um-Hk/s1600-h/pic6.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqa0x66enI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/qLMPw4Um-Hk/s320/pic6.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236167748315937394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqa1YUV5ZI/AAAAAAAAAIg/Bi06GLLmzg8/s1600-h/pic8.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqa1YUV5ZI/AAAAAAAAAIg/Bi06GLLmzg8/s320/pic8.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236167758623139218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-8875158027715133615?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/8875158027715133615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=8875158027715133615' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8875158027715133615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8875158027715133615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2008/08/accomodation-in-colombo-for-us-10-day.html' title='Accomodation in Colombo for US$ 10 a day'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SKqb7HOr8_I/AAAAAAAAAIw/hdujC9GQ3qc/s72-c/mail.google.com.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-7761339522898303334</id><published>2008-07-13T06:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:17.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Madu Ganga, Ahungalla, Sri Lanka</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SHoKqFXSYYI/AAAAAAAAAGg/LDx9clgX5qI/s1600-h/DSC03852.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SHoKqFXSYYI/AAAAAAAAAGg/LDx9clgX5qI/s320/DSC03852.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222498436000145794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SHoKqf2H6II/AAAAAAAAAGo/k5JaXzki2N0/s1600-h/DSC03854.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SHoKqf2H6II/AAAAAAAAAGo/k5JaXzki2N0/s320/DSC03854.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222498443108804738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SHoKqnuJhGI/AAAAAAAAAGw/bmLr9rSY-Rw/s1600-h/DSC03875.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SHoKqnuJhGI/AAAAAAAAAGw/bmLr9rSY-Rw/s320/DSC03875.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222498445222839394" 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/22674066-7761339522898303334?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/7761339522898303334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=7761339522898303334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/7761339522898303334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/7761339522898303334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2008/07/madu-ganga-ahungalla-sri-lanka.html' title='Madu Ganga, Ahungalla, Sri Lanka'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/SHoKqFXSYYI/AAAAAAAAAGg/LDx9clgX5qI/s72-c/DSC03852.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-1650012656685194265</id><published>2008-03-31T06:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T06:50:25.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rape: now women can bite back</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="ver12"&gt;&lt;span class="dropcap"&gt;From &lt;a href="http://www.thefirstpost.co.uk/?menuID=2&amp;amp;subID=1611"&gt;'The First Post - The Online Daily Magazine'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="ver12"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="dropcap"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h1&gt;Rape: now women can bite back&lt;span class="dropcap"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;p class="ver12"&gt;&lt;span class="dropcap"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;he words of a rape victim - "If only I had teeth down there" - have inspired the design of a new anti-rape device. &lt;/p&gt;                               &lt;p class="ver12ind"&gt;Rapex - dubbed the 'rape trap' - is a product worn internally by women. The hollow inside is lined with rows of razor-sharp hooks, which are designed to latch on to a rapist's penis during penetration. They can only be removed by a doctor. &lt;/p&gt;                               &lt;p class="ver12ind"&gt;The product will be on the shelves of South African chemists and supermarkets later this month. South African mother-of-two Sonette Ehlers developed the original prototype in 2005 but has struggled to get it patented and approved for sale, not least because of staunch opposition from feminist groups. &lt;/p&gt;                               &lt;p class="ver12ind"&gt;"Vengeful, horrible, and disgusting," was the response from Charlene Smith, one of South Africa's leading anti-rape campaigners. Lisa Vetten, of the Centre of Violence and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="ver12"&gt;&lt;span class="ver12ind"&gt;Reconciliation in Johannesburg, says&lt;/span&gt;: "This is like going back to the days when women were forced to wear chastity belts. It is a terrifying thought that women are being made to adapt to rape." &lt;/p&gt;                         &lt;p class="ver12ind"&gt;Some also fear that the sudden infliction of pain on the rapist could incite him to even greater violence. &lt;/p&gt;                         &lt;p class="ver12ind"&gt;Ehlers, however, is adamant that desperate times call for desperate measures. South Africa has the world's highest rate of sexual assault: a staggering 1.7m women are raped each year. She believes the product, priced at one Rand, will be particularly useful for poorer black women who walk long distances to and from work. &lt;/p&gt;                         With state intervention frustratingly slow, Ehlers argues this ugly version of empowerment is justified. "I don't hate men," she says. "I have not got revenge in mind. All I am doing is giving women their power back."&lt;p class="ver12ind"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-1650012656685194265?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/1650012656685194265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=1650012656685194265' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/1650012656685194265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/1650012656685194265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2008/03/rape-now-women-can-bite-back.html' title='Rape: now women can bite back'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-8542340728173400267</id><published>2008-03-16T11:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:18.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Parasailing - check!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/R91mo5o5mdI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/8fneC6wGpUY/s1600-h/DSC03286.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/R91mo5o5mdI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/8fneC6wGpUY/s320/DSC03286.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178407999399107026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yes, that would be me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Few months ago, I wrote about what I wanted to accomplish &lt;a href="http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/09/before-im-30.html"&gt;before I turn 30&lt;/a&gt;. Lists and I generally don't go well together, but hey, I got started on this one. I was in Goa 2 weeks ago and the first thing I saw when stepped on the beach were people parasailing and I knew I was not leaving without going parasailing myself. On day 3, after an early morning swim and breakfast I went parasailing. It was an experience I'll never forget and something I'll definitely do again. Get geared up was awesome and that feeling of being pulled into the air at the click of a button cannot be explained. The wind got a little rough for a few minutes and I found myself being tossed around like a rag doll which was a little scary but all in all the the experience was brilliant from the deep blue waters beneath me, hanging onto the parachute ropes and checking out whatever scenery I could enjoy with my semi blindness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/R91mpZo5meI/AAAAAAAAAGY/7-qc3JTcVUs/s1600-h/DSC03292.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/R91mpZo5meI/AAAAAAAAAGY/7-qc3JTcVUs/s320/DSC03292.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178408007989041634" 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/22674066-8542340728173400267?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/8542340728173400267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=8542340728173400267' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8542340728173400267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8542340728173400267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2008/03/parasailing-check.html' title='Parasailing - check!'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/R91mo5o5mdI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/8fneC6wGpUY/s72-c/DSC03286.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-8532089919983688286</id><published>2008-03-15T04:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T05:06:04.787-07:00</updated><title type='text'>End of 3 years of uni</title><content type='html'>And I don't know if I'm happy or sad. As it is with everything else right now, I'm undecided. A mixture of both I guess. I know I won't miss the long hours of classes and piles of projects but what I will miss are the people and the crazy lecturers and spending 6 days of the week with a big group of people who I've grown to love over the last three years. I'll miss running to the basketball court to get juice, miss hanging out at the island at every given free hour, making lunch plans, bondings and dissings. We've been waiting for today for 3 years and its it came and it went. I was too hungry to hang around for another 156 pictures with my classmates so the usual group minus half left for lunch. I didn't cry, I didn't scream like a banshee out of uni, just left sleepy and hungry, which is basically how I leave everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From our first semester onwards, T, would run out of the main block and shout "_ down _ to go" ! At the end of the first semester when I heard him I didn't know him too well and I thought he was just nuts but today I watched him run out and scream "6 down baby" and do his coorgi dance and I had to laugh at how things had changed, for the better fortunately. I'm leaving with a big group of close friends, each so different and yet so dear to me. I'll certainly miss uni and madness and the good times. My time here has taught me so much and changed me and there's nothing about the last three years, even the very worst parts, I would want any different.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-8532089919983688286?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/8532089919983688286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=8532089919983688286' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8532089919983688286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8532089919983688286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2008/03/end-of-3-years-of-uni.html' title='End of 3 years of uni'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-1544038479804168492</id><published>2008-02-21T09:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T09:54:38.991-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Volunteers needed at Sahanaya</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Sahanaya - the National Council for Mental Health is badly in need of  volunteers (preferably youth) who are willing to dedicate a few hours a week to  help with their various in-house projects. Some of the work involved would  involve working directly with the clients of Sahanaya and thus, could be quite  challenging and interesting. So, do try to help if you can. &lt;strong&gt;If you or  anyone you know is interested pls contact Sheriene at Sahanaya on  2685960. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;For more details feel free to visit &lt;a href="www.sahanaya.org"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;www.sahanaya.org&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="www.sahanaya.org"&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/22674066-1544038479804168492?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/1544038479804168492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=1544038479804168492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/1544038479804168492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/1544038479804168492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2008/02/volunteers-needed-at-sahanaya.html' title='Volunteers needed at Sahanaya'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-3748437104280371</id><published>2008-01-25T06:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T06:33:50.114-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Indian brand names</title><content type='html'>They can be crazy sometimes. Extremely funny and makes you wonder what the devil they were thinking when they came up with it. I wish I carry my camera when I see these things, but haven't been able to do so so far. The first time I saw 'Standard' fireworks, I snickered to myself and thought, "well, they seem to be fine with the fact that their goods are nothing extraordinary and found it perfectly acceptable to be splash this on a huge hoarding".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I found 'Average' clothing - a brand. No really, you can't make this stuff up. It gets better. Yesterday I passed a man selling pillows in these nice polythene covers with 'Rational pillows' printed across it in bold red letters. Thats great, its always good to know that my pillows are rational and won't do anything crazy while I sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-3748437104280371?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/3748437104280371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=3748437104280371' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3748437104280371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3748437104280371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2008/01/indian-brand-names.html' title='Indian brand names'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-4776597634773456862</id><published>2007-12-08T10:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T10:19:38.362-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Ann Singers in Bangalore</title><content type='html'>The Merry Ann singers were simply wonderful tonight at 'Magnificat', the annual Christmas concert hosted by Christ College in Bangalore. Its been years since I heard them sing and I was amazed at the sheer power of the voices and the brilliant show. I loved their rendition of 'Oh Holy Night'. Nothing monotonous, lots of different items with the kids and the adults and of course, Andrew David and his jokes. I loved it, and at the end the audience requested a Sinhalese song and they sang the National Anthem and for me, that was just the perfect way to end it. Its been so long since I sang the National anthem and I didn't think I would ever sing it at my own university.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Christ College choir was super as always, and watching Swathi and Tanvi is always a pleasure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-4776597634773456862?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/4776597634773456862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=4776597634773456862' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4776597634773456862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4776597634773456862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/12/merry-ann-singers-in-bangalore.html' title='Merry Ann Singers in Bangalore'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-6196712628709919551</id><published>2007-10-31T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T09:00:06.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Mighty Heart</title><content type='html'>I really liked this one. The movie about Daniel Pearl's death and how his wife Mariane held it together while attempting to locate him was much awaited and definitely worth a watch. The connections and procedures, the people connected and the authorities working it was extremely fascinating given that its all that took place. I thought that Irfan Khan did a brilliant job as Captain. Jolie was also pretty good. I watched the actual video of Daniel Pearl's beheading and it was so disturbing and the movie just makes you really feel the whole tragedy. I highly recommend it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I watched Loins of Punjab around 2 weeks back, which is a pretty new film, and its awesome. Its funny, its a good story, its terribly predictable and just SO Indian and I loved it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-6196712628709919551?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/6196712628709919551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=6196712628709919551' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/6196712628709919551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/6196712628709919551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/10/mighty-heart.html' title='A Mighty Heart'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-4409695332254042316</id><published>2007-09-25T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T08:12:21.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Ode to Chick books</title><content type='html'>I love chick books. There, I said it. Go ahead, roll your eyes. But there's nothing better than curling up with a chick book. By chick books I don't mean Mills and Boons. Sorry, thats a little too over the top for me. For me chick books must be witty, have a decent story, have a hot man and not require too much effort. I adore Sophie Kinsella, who is the author of the Shopaholic series. I've read the entire series at least 10 times (yes, I'm one of those people who can read books over and over again) She's also written two more favourite books of mine, Can you keep a secret and the Undomestic Goddess. I like Meg Cabot but not her princess diaries. I like all her other books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But none of this is intellectually stimulating you say. I say, f*** you, I don't read books in during my wind down time to be "intellectually stimulated". I read chick books during my chillout time so that I can unwind and relax. And laugh. Roll my eyes. I read theories of nationalism and the sociology of social problems for stimulation. And to pass my exams. But give me Mendelson and Kinsella and heck, I'll choose Kinsella anyday. I'll read my Shyam Selvadurai's and my cherished Japanese authors when I have the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my food tastes better, my alone time is better all the more with my chick books. I'm reading 'The men's guide to the women's bathroom' by Jo Barret right now and I must say, its almost as good as Kinsella's stuff. Its enlightening to say the least !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-4409695332254042316?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/4409695332254042316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=4409695332254042316' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4409695332254042316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4409695332254042316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/09/ode-to-chick-books.html' title='An Ode to Chick books'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-1707691233265601033</id><published>2007-09-20T06:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T06:50:16.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prison Break season 3</title><content type='html'>After waiting since January for season 3 to start, finally the first episode of season three was out yday. The trailer gave heart burn from the anticipation and what can I say, it was worth the 6+ months for season 3. I watched the first episode and wow .. Michael Skofield is hotter than ever, the plot is better, its geared towards a crazy crazy season. A friend of mine described it best - "You'll sell your parents just to watch the next episode" :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-1707691233265601033?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/1707691233265601033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=1707691233265601033' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/1707691233265601033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/1707691233265601033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/09/prison-break-season-3.html' title='Prison Break season 3'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-5557469657371297039</id><published>2007-09-06T04:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T05:09:17.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Before I''m 30 ....</title><content type='html'>Saw a new list up on &lt;a href="http://nikung.blogspot.com"&gt;'Uncertain, but precise' &lt;/a&gt;and thought I'd write on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Have a Masters in something I love.&lt;br /&gt;2) Backpack all over Spain and Portugal with D.&lt;br /&gt;3) Bungee, sky dive and para sail.&lt;br /&gt;4) Have my own set of wheels.&lt;br /&gt;5) Seen &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;almost &lt;/span&gt;all of Sri Lanka&lt;br /&gt;6) Done something proper with my writing and photography&lt;br /&gt;7) Been all over South America, Greece, and Turkey.&lt;br /&gt;8) Have a floor to ceiling, wall to wall book rack that is filled with books and movies.&lt;br /&gt;9) Have my own place and 3 dogs&lt;br /&gt;10) Get married&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-5557469657371297039?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/5557469657371297039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=5557469657371297039' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/5557469657371297039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/5557469657371297039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/09/before-im-30.html' title='Before I&apos;&apos;m 30 ....'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-8073320524072654954</id><published>2007-09-04T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:25.651-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hampi-ed</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2Dsu9ClaI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/M_cuEX0YJko/s1600-h/DSC01422.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2Dsu9ClaI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/M_cuEX0YJko/s320/DSC01422.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106382357049546146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2FXe9ClfI/AAAAAAAAAF4/nfuy5FnB55M/s1600-h/DSC01473.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2FXe9ClfI/AAAAAAAAAF4/nfuy5FnB55M/s320/DSC01473.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106384191000581618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2FYO9ClgI/AAAAAAAAAGA/9n12S5z9d-I/s1600-h/DSC01489.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2FYO9ClgI/AAAAAAAAAGA/9n12S5z9d-I/s320/DSC01489.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106384203885483522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2FYe9ClhI/AAAAAAAAAGI/nMScYyb27to/s1600-h/DSC01540.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2FYe9ClhI/AAAAAAAAAGI/nMScYyb27to/s320/DSC01540.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106384208180450834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2Ds-9ClbI/AAAAAAAAAFY/k0OYEA9Q8J8/s1600-h/DSC01490.JPG"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2Dte9ClcI/AAAAAAAAAFg/tgBhjuoZ0AY/s1600-h/DSC01593.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2Dte9ClcI/AAAAAAAAAFg/tgBhjuoZ0AY/s320/DSC01593.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106382369934448066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2Dt-9CldI/AAAAAAAAAFo/UWkwVbhcyXg/s1600-h/DSC01618.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2Dt-9CldI/AAAAAAAAAFo/UWkwVbhcyXg/s320/DSC01618.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106382378524382674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2Dvu9CleI/AAAAAAAAAFw/IbilI8Il9f0/s1600-h/DSC01650.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2Dvu9CleI/AAAAAAAAAFw/IbilI8Il9f0/s320/DSC01650.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106382408589153762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The end of another great vacation. I have a lot of jewelery (with many bells), 300+ pictures, inside jokes that only can be shared with 6 people and a whole load of memories and good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took off to Hampi last weekend for a much needed break away from the work and most importantly, the city that was driving me mad. Went by overnight train, which was 9 and a half hours and gave me heart burn with the cockroaches running around. Settled for the top berth and hours of chit chat which helped me get my mind off the smells and the roaches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell in love with Hampi the minute we entered the main street bazaar. It was quaint, colourful and the complete opposite of a city. Its a temple town with lots of ruins and and temples and remains of a palace. There are excavation sites and heritage monuments all over. It is also a town inhabited by hippies from all over the world and frequented by foriegners who stay there for months so its no surprise that all the restaurants have menus that have Italian, Tibetan, Israeli food along with the usual Indian and continental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is just SO much to do in Hampi. One must visit is Mango Tree Restaurent, over looking the river. The tall swing hanging from the enormous mango tree, sitting on the mats and eating the brilliant food, walking through the banana groves - its no wonder Lonely Planet recommends it as one of the top five places in India. We didn't notice hours going by when we were there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did we do in Hampi? Its more like, what didn't we do in Hampi ! We climbed the Hanuman Temple which on top of a cliff, 600 steps up on a winding rock. We hired bicycles (six rupees per hour!) and cycled all over the Hampi bazaar and ruins, we climbed and hiked and walked for hours through the temples and excavation sites and the ruins of the palace and whatever we stumbled upon as we walked along and over the millions of rocks. We did so much the 2 days that we there and got only like 8 hours of sleep but it was definitely worth it. By the time we left I felt as if we've been there forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might think that one can overdose on history and ruins but really, go to Hampi and find out that its not true. Its just so beautiful and untouched and clean and a whole different experience altogether. We were lucky enough to be there during a festival and the spirit of the locals was just out of this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hampi is definitely one place in India I recommend anyone should go to, its right up there on my list with Gokarna. More picture &lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/iromi/sets/72157601863543459/"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-8073320524072654954?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/8073320524072654954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=8073320524072654954' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8073320524072654954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8073320524072654954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/09/hampi-ed.html' title='Hampi-ed'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rt2Dsu9ClaI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/M_cuEX0YJko/s72-c/DSC01422.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-2001813817886817131</id><published>2007-08-18T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-18T10:15:07.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If you can't sing, don't.</title><content type='html'>I think the same applies to speaking. If you have nothing intelligent or worthwhile to say, then its best to keep quiet. If you're not sure of what you're saying, take a deep breath and think. Because once its out, its out. The slip of the tongue phenomena can only get you so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are just few things that was going through my mind after watching a rather disastrous interview on tv with Chaminda Vaas. It was on some indian news channel and he was talking about Murali being accused of illegal bowling action (isn't that old news or am I just ignorant?) Basically, ya di ya di ya he spoke about it and I was slowly losing interesting when Vaas said that it that was wrong to have been "fingering" Murali for his bowling action. And he said a few times. Ok then. Didn't realize that illegal bowling actions could bring on such extreme, er, action? Pointing fingers at someone is bad enough, but fingering them? Now thats just wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah so hit me with the usual English is not out first language. Thats fine. No one expects perfect grammar from you. Hell, we speak the language better than the English. But don't come up with your own interpretation of the language and go crazy with verbs and your grammar, especially not on foreign news. You're on international broadcast for a reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was fairly disastrous after that and I just changed the channel. I'm sure it was a good interview, but I don't want to cringe my way through my tv time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-2001813817886817131?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/2001813817886817131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=2001813817886817131' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2001813817886817131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2001813817886817131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/08/if-you-cant-sing-dont.html' title='If you can&apos;t sing, don&apos;t.'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-6337737520660965111</id><published>2007-08-05T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T10:33:01.761-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog update</title><content type='html'>Been too busy to even remember that I have a blog ! If not for random queries  I really would forget that I once had a blog I was enthusiastic about.  Took up kickboxing, which I really love but its giving me so much pain that I'm considering  sticking to swimming (despite the freezing weather) and tennis.  The much anticipated western acoustic and electric at uni didn't fail to please me immensely either yesterday, even after 3 years of listening to all these talented people (who are like 2-3 years younger than me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still amazed at the talent and potential. This year, the winning acoustic team had an own composition which was my favourite out of all performances yesterday. It was also nice that most of them are friends and classmates. The video is &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=50U7Vb-ydsQ"&gt;here &lt;/a&gt;and the performance is really something else, and worth a watch. They covered "wannabe" by spice girls for their sound check which was really funny and did a good job of 'don't phunk with my heart" all videos which I will upload later. Till then, enjoy acoustic chutney's own comp, the name  I cannot remember however. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/50U7Vb-ydsQ"&gt; &lt;/param&gt; &lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/50U7Vb-ydsQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;  &lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-6337737520660965111?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/6337737520660965111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=6337737520660965111' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/6337737520660965111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/6337737520660965111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/08/blog-update.html' title='Blog update'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-3436623203603919356</id><published>2007-07-08T07:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T07:40:23.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Live Earth</title><content type='html'>I watched 11 hours of the Live Earth concert ... its been a while since I watched so much tv, but it was worth it. Of course, its not like I liked all the performances, some were downright terrible but its always nice to see your favorites on stage. What I liked most was that almost all the artists and bands played all known and liked stuff, because usually these are the great opportunities to play unknown new songs from their latest albums. I absolutely loved RHCP, Metallica, Keane, David Gray, Crowded House, John Butler Trio, Paolo Nutini, the opening drum act at Wembley, Corrine Bailey Rae, Joss Stone, the Police, Baaba Maal and so many more. I unfortunately am yet to watch John  Mayer as I fell asleep during the time he played, after for for hours to see him ! I didn't get to see most of the US show since I fell asleep and caught only the last few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the apartment to myself on Saturday so it was absolutely blissful just curled up on the futon watching Live earth and enjoying the superb weather. I was chatting online with &lt;a href="http://bailabeat.blogspot.com"&gt;Confab &lt;/a&gt;and it was as good as having him here watching it with me since we were watching it from our respective homes and discussing each one as they were shown and bitching about the useless ones. I found some of the short films they showed very interesting, especially the one titles "Don't let it all unravel". So simple and the music was brilliant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite moment from the concert? The look on the security guys' faces every time Enrique Iglesias decided to mingle with the crowd. What a fool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-3436623203603919356?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/3436623203603919356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=3436623203603919356' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3436623203603919356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3436623203603919356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/07/live-earth.html' title='Live Earth'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-907141251531067195</id><published>2007-06-22T09:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T09:48:31.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A boy in a salon</title><content type='html'>Or a  parlour as they call it here. A &amp;amp; I had finished lunch and had another half an hour to kill before afternoon class. Getting my eyebrows done was my plan in the evening so I thought I'd save myself the trouble and get it done before class since the parlour was just 10 minutes from the restaurant. We decided to walk and burn the calories. After 2 mins of walking, A was NOT happy cos exercise or any sort of physical activity is not his thing. Especially since his bike was just there but I insisted on walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He felt the need to know why exactly he was being taken along for something he had never heard of. Our conversation went like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A - So exactly what are you going to do?&lt;br /&gt;Me - Get my eyebrows done&lt;br /&gt;A- What do mean, get it done?&lt;br /&gt;Me - Get it threaded&lt;br /&gt;A - (makes strange noise) Whats that?&lt;br /&gt;Me - ( I stop and show him my left eyebrow) See all the newly grown hair? So i will get threaded and get rid of it.&lt;br /&gt;A - I don't see newly grown hair. And what do you mean threaded? Sounds weird.&lt;br /&gt;Me - They take thread and do some galata and take off the excess hair.&lt;br /&gt;A - oooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwww .... why do you girls do this to yourselves ?&lt;br /&gt;Me - So that we don't look like you.&lt;br /&gt;A - Jokes and all. So you can't do this threading yourself?&lt;br /&gt;Me - No man its hard.&lt;br /&gt;A - Ah skills and all needed huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reach parlour. A seems hesitant to enter into unknown territory and wants to stay outside. In the blazing sun. Only after I promise a sofa and ac that he tip toes inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A - I'm scared.&lt;br /&gt;Me - Eh shataap. You just come watch and see how threading happens.&lt;br /&gt;A - Eh no man they'll think I've come for threading.&lt;br /&gt;Me - Hmm I wonder why ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sits on couch. A girl sitting next to him looks at his in amusement and snickers behind her cosmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me - Now look at my eyebrows. Then you can see the difference when I come back.&lt;br /&gt;A - Gives a look of absolute terror and sinks into the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I come back, with my perfectly done eyebrows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me - See ? Nice no.&lt;br /&gt;A - I don't see a difference.&lt;br /&gt;Me - Don't lie. Here look close. You can even see how its swollen a little.&lt;br /&gt;A - You're paying them 20 bucks to pull off hair from your eyebrows and to make your skin swell ?&lt;br /&gt;Me - Bah, Whatever. Lets go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are reasons why males are not allowed inside beauty parlours. They just don't appreciate the hard labour that takes place inside those hidden walls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-907141251531067195?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/907141251531067195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=907141251531067195' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/907141251531067195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/907141251531067195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/06/boy-in-salon.html' title='A boy in a salon'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-4094623279275332269</id><published>2007-06-22T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:26.394-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pots for plants</title><content type='html'>Ok yeah so I couldn't think of a better title for this post. I saw this while I was on the parliament road, near the J'pura Hospital. There are lots of vendors selling curd in the small hattis, and instead of throwing them and breeding mosquitoes, they have come with this as a solution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RnvfMJzT7GI/AAAAAAAAAE4/mGKgeduvKBU/s1600-h/DSC00895.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RnvfMJzT7GI/AAAAAAAAAE4/mGKgeduvKBU/s320/DSC00895.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078898404672924770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RnvfNZzT7HI/AAAAAAAAAFA/YN_g31PTAfs/s1600-h/DSC00900.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RnvfNZzT7HI/AAAAAAAAAFA/YN_g31PTAfs/s320/DSC00900.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078898426147761266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RnvfN5zT7II/AAAAAAAAAFI/qmdONcLxfUM/s1600-h/DSC00897.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RnvfN5zT7II/AAAAAAAAAFI/qmdONcLxfUM/s320/DSC00897.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078898434737695874" 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/22674066-4094623279275332269?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/4094623279275332269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=4094623279275332269' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4094623279275332269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4094623279275332269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/06/pots-for-plants.html' title='Pots for plants'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RnvfMJzT7GI/AAAAAAAAAE4/mGKgeduvKBU/s72-c/DSC00895.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-3336095880823091264</id><published>2007-06-07T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T09:54:00.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shrek 3</title><content type='html'>Was super. I liked it better than the 2nd one but I still love love Shrek 1 the most. Shrek 3 was hilarious and what I liked most was that it made fun of everything, from movie cliches to college kids and heartfelt speeches. It was sometimes predictable but mostly so unpredictable at times, especially with the humour. The hallmark speeches were just super and I loved the king's dying scene and the donkey-puss in boots switch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-3336095880823091264?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/3336095880823091264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=3336095880823091264' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3336095880823091264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3336095880823091264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/06/shrek-3.html' title='Shrek 3'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-1915508830969138592</id><published>2007-06-07T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:26.947-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rmg1aJzT7EI/AAAAAAAAAEo/GrCJzjD-XWE/s1600-h/DSC00930.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rmg1aJzT7EI/AAAAAAAAAEo/GrCJzjD-XWE/s320/DSC00930.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073363703656868930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rmg1apzT7FI/AAAAAAAAAEw/nRhzTkU5c-8/s1600-h/DSC00927.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rmg1apzT7FI/AAAAAAAAAEw/nRhzTkU5c-8/s320/DSC00927.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073363712246803538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My dogs dislikes goodbyes with a vengeance and believes in doing whatever he can to make us stop packing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are never fun. I've gotten so used to the constant goodbyes and the comings and goings that now I somewhat avoid it or ignore it altogether. I used to love having everyone over the day before I left and saying the million goodbyes over the telephone and sms. But now I just leave without much drama and all that and that suits me better I think. I do forget to tell people about me leaving sometimes and that causes some confusion but ultimately gets sorted on its own at times ! Being home for 2 months so wonderful and now I'm back and loving the wonderful weather :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-1915508830969138592?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/1915508830969138592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=1915508830969138592' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/1915508830969138592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/1915508830969138592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/06/goodbyes.html' title='Goodbyes'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rmg1aJzT7EI/AAAAAAAAAEo/GrCJzjD-XWE/s72-c/DSC00930.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-9162295013624082543</id><published>2007-04-10T11:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T11:53:03.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Men are like shoes</title><content type='html'>Be it high maintenance Manolos or the oh so comfy Bata slippers, are men &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;really &lt;/span&gt;like shoes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask the expert &lt;a href="http://sosnazzy.blogspot.com/2007/04/men-are-like-shoes.html"&gt;herself&lt;/a&gt; and welcome her to the world of blogging and look forward to her discussions on anything and everything that crosses her mind, or at least whats left of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-9162295013624082543?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/9162295013624082543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=9162295013624082543' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/9162295013624082543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/9162295013624082543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/04/men-are-like-shoes.html' title='Men are like shoes'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-3765304017719277273</id><published>2007-04-09T05:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:27.259-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Caesar's Palace</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rho36-CFm_I/AAAAAAAAAEY/8PWvhOoQEI4/s1600-h/DSC03717.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rho36-CFm_I/AAAAAAAAAEY/8PWvhOoQEI4/s320/DSC03717.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051411418273127410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The only decent pic I have of all 5, they just love to spread out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen way too many concerts of this band. So much so that I have some 200+ pictures of them and can sing along to all their own compositions. I love 'swim' and 'bittersweet mind' and no one does 'down with disease' better than CP. Yes, I'm oh so biased, but I have pledged my undying loyalty to this group of people, some who I have become so fond of and converted into ardent arrack lovers. Each person in the band is so unbelievably brilliantly talented and I'm not being biased when I say this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out their music &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/caesarsmusic"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, recorded live at a concert on Saturday. Swim, Wolchod and Bittersweet mind are their own compositions. I highly recommend 'swim' and 'bittersweet mind' from this site.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-3765304017719277273?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/3765304017719277273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=3765304017719277273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3765304017719277273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3765304017719277273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/04/caesars-palace.html' title='Caesar&apos;s Palace'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rho36-CFm_I/AAAAAAAAAEY/8PWvhOoQEI4/s72-c/DSC03717.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-4411397577230383586</id><published>2007-04-07T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:28.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Camels outside my gate</title><content type='html'>I was on the phone when I heard the sounds of bells and saw my sister dashing towards the window. She said "oh my god camels" and I ran myself. I grabbed my camera and ran downstairs to see 2 huge camels and their mahouts outside my gate and they were giving rides to all the kids in the area. This is why I love India, you never know what you're going to see or encounter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhiJXOCFm7I/AAAAAAAAAD4/Tu5kLwh7Ev4/s1600-h/DSC00605.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhiJXOCFm7I/AAAAAAAAAD4/Tu5kLwh7Ev4/s320/DSC00605.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050938014092860338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhiJXeCFm8I/AAAAAAAAAEA/jP3fvhuCdnA/s1600-h/DSC00613.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhiJXeCFm8I/AAAAAAAAAEA/jP3fvhuCdnA/s320/DSC00613.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050938018387827650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhiJXuCFm9I/AAAAAAAAAEI/GJmgXqx_kmI/s1600-h/DSC00615.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhiJXuCFm9I/AAAAAAAAAEI/GJmgXqx_kmI/s320/DSC00615.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050938022682794962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhiJX-CFm-I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Gl074zJCYCs/s1600-h/DSC00618.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhiJX-CFm-I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Gl074zJCYCs/s320/DSC00618.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050938026977762274" 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/22674066-4411397577230383586?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/4411397577230383586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=4411397577230383586' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4411397577230383586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4411397577230383586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/04/camels-outside-my-gate.html' title='Camels outside my gate'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhiJXOCFm7I/AAAAAAAAAD4/Tu5kLwh7Ev4/s72-c/DSC00605.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-6775154831299469904</id><published>2007-04-06T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:28.847-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How to make a documentary in two hours</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;Things to keep in mind when making a last minute documentary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;1. Deploy your people on a busy street, teach them the crucial phrases that would get the public to come and be interviewed. Eg: "It is for gender equality", "we will fail college if you don't come", etc&lt;br /&gt;Make sure your people fall into all categories - female, male, cute kid, hot college girl, football fan, menacing tall boy, lost girl and so on - so that there is someone who appeals to the general public at any given point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Never ever say no to whoever that comes forward. Even if they don't remotely smart, use "like" after every 2 words, looks ready to talk till the cows come home, look like they've never been in front of a camera before. Beggars can't be choosers, and just &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;pretend &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;to be filming if the person is talking bullshit. Its a win-win situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Make sure &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;your &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;people know exactly where the camera angle is. That way, during editing you don't find your own people laughing and gaping like idiots watching people they dragged over being interviewed. Also, make sure your people (those who aren't aware where the camera is pointed at) aren't chasing each other, dancing, doing nothing when they are supposed to be hunting for subjects. They cannot be edited out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Never ever, mutter under your breath while filming someone. Things like "he is fool", "ah think you're smart ah" will be recorded as well, and cannot be edited out. It will also make it hard to understand to what the person who is being filmed is saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Screen the people before if possible. There is no harm in including footage of people who claim to be "feminazis" and believe that boys should be hung upside down from their toenails  if they do something wrong, IF they have some VALID points to make. However, people who were brought to be interviewed because "he was just SO hot" does not constitute as a valid reason to not be edited out. Especially if their footage consists mainly or only of "dude", "man", "like".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhZnvuCFm3I/AAAAAAAAADY/M8qQWDRwIYk/s1600-h/DSC02603.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhZnvuCFm3I/AAAAAAAAADY/M8qQWDRwIYk/s320/DSC02603.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050338101650889586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;         The people - The cute kid, the menacing tall boy etc - looking for people to interview&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhZnv-CFm4I/AAAAAAAAADg/yqBsjFb9L_Q/s1600-h/DSC02605.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhZnv-CFm4I/AAAAAAAAADg/yqBsjFb9L_Q/s320/DSC02605.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050338105945856898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never laugh OR stand in the frame of your own documentary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhZnwOCFm5I/AAAAAAAAADo/2H4ixXa6CgY/s1600-h/DSC02607.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhZnwOCFm5I/AAAAAAAAADo/2H4ixXa6CgY/s320/DSC02607.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050338110240824210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretending to film after 5 minutes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhZnweCFm6I/AAAAAAAAADw/yBEt9HFpMU4/s1600-h/DSC02608.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhZnweCFm6I/AAAAAAAAADw/yBEt9HFpMU4/s320/DSC02608.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050338114535791522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The people (Veeru in football gear - appealing to the fans!) looking for people to interview&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/22674066-6775154831299469904?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/6775154831299469904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=6775154831299469904' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/6775154831299469904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/6775154831299469904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/04/how-to-make-documentary-in-two-hours.html' title='How to make a documentary in two hours'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RhZnvuCFm3I/AAAAAAAAADY/M8qQWDRwIYk/s72-c/DSC02603.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-9081823707825651135</id><published>2007-03-29T01:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T12:59:29.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>300</title><content type='html'>Just got back from the cinema after watching 300. I liked it, despite the overdose of testosterone which runs pretty much the entire length of the movie. I thought that Gerard Butler was outstanding as King Leonidas. All the actors were really good and I managed to stomach all that blood without a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found some of the underlying themes most fascinating, especially that of the role of Spartan women, who were treated as equals, unlike their Persian counterparts. Leonidas' wife Queen Gorgo plays such a crucial in his life, and her final approval seals his deals. I loved the part where Queen Gorgo tells the Persian messenger why Spartan women are given such in importance - it is because Spartan women give birth to "real men".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I found interesting was the scattered humor and sarcasm in the script, which is not something I expected. I found myself snickering and all in all, somehow gave a more a personal touch to the Spartans, who went to fight the immortals, but gave the audience the impression that it is they, the brave 300, who were the immortals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later, still digesting all the Spartan men and their conquests.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-9081823707825651135?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/9081823707825651135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=9081823707825651135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/9081823707825651135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/9081823707825651135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/03/300.html' title='300'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-4909366375397390428</id><published>2007-03-27T01:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:29.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Bob, Goodbye Inzy?</title><content type='html'>I mean REALLY. Did they think that the front page of the world cup supplement looking like this would make divert attention from the fact that India is out of the super 8?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgjbBBCfU-I/AAAAAAAAADQ/q9xa2607LsA/s1600-h/DSC00598.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgjbBBCfU-I/AAAAAAAAADQ/q9xa2607LsA/s400/DSC00598.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046524192973870050" 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/22674066-4909366375397390428?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/4909366375397390428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=4909366375397390428' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4909366375397390428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4909366375397390428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/03/goodbye-bob-goodbye-inzy.html' title='Goodbye Bob, Goodbye Inzy?'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgjbBBCfU-I/AAAAAAAAADQ/q9xa2607LsA/s72-c/DSC00598.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-2583548192761897900</id><published>2007-03-26T05:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:29.837-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beehive</title><content type='html'>This worries me greatly, but I can't help being mesmerized&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgfK2hCfU6I/AAAAAAAAACw/qLIu5sc1B8g/s1600-h/DSC00583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgfK2hCfU6I/AAAAAAAAACw/qLIu5sc1B8g/s400/DSC00583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046224945422488482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgfMpBCfU7I/AAAAAAAAAC4/M8xYSG3cO_c/s1600-h/DSC00574.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgfMpBCfU7I/AAAAAAAAAC4/M8xYSG3cO_c/s320/DSC00574.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046226912517510066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgfMpRCfU8I/AAAAAAAAADA/HikGdVmxygs/s1600-h/DSC00580.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgfMpRCfU8I/AAAAAAAAADA/HikGdVmxygs/s320/DSC00580.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046226916812477378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgfMqBCfU9I/AAAAAAAAADI/-VKDxERcvdI/s1600-h/DSC00588.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgfMqBCfU9I/AAAAAAAAADI/-VKDxERcvdI/s320/DSC00588.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046226929697379282" 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/22674066-2583548192761897900?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/2583548192761897900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=2583548192761897900' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2583548192761897900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2583548192761897900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/03/beehive.html' title='Beehive'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgfK2hCfU6I/AAAAAAAAACw/qLIu5sc1B8g/s72-c/DSC00583.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-2717321807365702118</id><published>2007-03-25T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T07:01:31.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Death awaits Indian cricket team</title><content type='html'>I almost feel sorry for them. Police are on guard in front of all cricketer's houses like Dhoni, Tendulkar, Dravid etc, since they lost to Bangladesh. I read an article today where they had interviewed one of the policemen who were guarding one of the cricketer's houses and he said that he thought he would be off the job after the Sr Lanka match but since they lost, he's on duty indefinitely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since they lost to us, the Indians have been going crazy. They are very fanatical and I expected nothing less. 2 fans have died, 1 committed suicide and a couple of others hospitalized. However, this number is much less than what I had initially expected. The fans have been burning effigies, holding mock funerals, rioting, protesting ... basically the full works. I couldn't even cheer during the match because I wasn't too sure whether I had an fanatic neighbors so I had keep my screaming to a minimum and in Sinhalese !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I read the entire Times of India this morning, I noticed that 95% of the articles were about the Indian cricket team. Its amazing what a  LOT they have to say about it. There is hardly any repetition in the articles as one might expect, but given the disappointment, hostility and animosity cricket crazy india is going through right now, I really wonder what would become of the cricket team when they reach India.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that stands out in the newspapers and tv reports is criticism against the cricketers and their brand endorsements. There is not one second on tv that goes without an advertisement that doesn't feature an Indian cricketer. A lot of people say that the cricketers have got lost in the world of endorsements and deals and that all that should be banned. Kapil Dev, in an article says "Fans want greater commitment from players, not a bigger name or brand".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, India being knocked out has caused a huge catastrophe for brands. Brands like Nokia,  Pepsi, LG are now rethinking their marketing strategies as their sales have started to plummet. No one anticipated this fate for India and I suppose no one thought of planning ahead. Apparently the corporate sector has dumped an estimated 600 crore into the world cup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, there are hundreds of email and txt jokes about the Indian cricket team. Two of the best that I got were - "The Indian cricket team has been kidnapped and the kidnappers are demanding 50 crore rupees as ransom or the team will be burned in kerosene. Please contribute, I have already donated 12 litres."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'India is a cricketing nation. It walks, talks, drinks, breathes and sleeps cricket. Too bad it doesn't play it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-2717321807365702118?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/2717321807365702118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=2717321807365702118' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2717321807365702118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2717321807365702118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/03/death-awaits-indian-cricket-team.html' title='Death awaits Indian cricket team'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-3528170773560429110</id><published>2007-03-24T13:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:30.535-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a Lawyer, a Teacher &amp; a Tea Broker</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgWHIRCfU3I/AAAAAAAAACY/E-FeWL6Z-tc/s1600-h/DSC00542.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045587533621056370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgWHIRCfU3I/AAAAAAAAACY/E-FeWL6Z-tc/s320/DSC00542.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgWHIxCfU4I/AAAAAAAAACg/Guwx-x8Xf6I/s1600-h/DSC00545.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045587542210990978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgWHIxCfU4I/AAAAAAAAACg/Guwx-x8Xf6I/s320/DSC00545.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgWHJRCfU5I/AAAAAAAAACo/zmPX5L77Zd0/s1600-h/DSC00551.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045587550800925586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgWHJRCfU5I/AAAAAAAAACo/zmPX5L77Zd0/s320/DSC00551.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/22674066-3528170773560429110?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/3528170773560429110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=3528170773560429110' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3528170773560429110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3528170773560429110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/03/lawyer-teacher-tea-broker.html' title='a Lawyer, a Teacher &amp; a Tea Broker'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RgWHIRCfU3I/AAAAAAAAACY/E-FeWL6Z-tc/s72-c/DSC00542.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-491007418087629038</id><published>2007-03-18T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T11:06:40.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to Sri Lanka</title><content type='html'>Blissfully happy to be back home ................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-491007418087629038?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/491007418087629038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=491007418087629038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/491007418087629038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/491007418087629038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/03/welcome-to-sri-lanka.html' title='Welcome to Sri Lanka'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-3559326715000461720</id><published>2007-03-10T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T10:01:29.817-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stray dog menace</title><content type='html'>Its become a huge issue in Bangalore. It came to light a few months ago when a 6 year old girl was mauled to death by a pack of stray dogs. It was a huge shock and woke up authorities and activists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have to admit that NGOs like CUPA and other centres have done a lot of work with their anti rabies and sterilization programs.  They have sterilized a large number of stray dogs and then brought them back to where they were captured, which I think is a great thing. They take care not to displace the dogs and the agencies have divided Bangalore into 4 sections, which makes it easier for them to keep track.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But these agencies don't have enough funds so its not easy for them to do as a good a job as they can. The CUPA hospital is brilliant, its a hospital plus boarding for dogs with owners who leave their dogs for short periods. Again, funds I think is a problem. I have been to 2 of their shelters, the hospital and the normal dog shelter. The hospital has great facilities and dedicated staff. They have mainly dogs, but they also have cats, cows, goats, birds and rabbits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shelter, not so well maintained but great staff and the animals are well looked after. However, if you take in abandoned puppies, they are put up for adoption but if they are not adopted within a month, they are put down. I was aghast at first, because I found out about this many months after we had deposited a couple of puppies there. But then, the shelter doesn't have the funds or the space to accommodate every dog and puppy that is brought there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The death of the small girl stirred up a lot of trouble and authorities started putting stray dogs down but somehow the work died down after a few weeks. Then last week a little boy was killed again, this time quite brutally. According to the newspapers he was basically torn to shreds by a pack of stray dogs. And this happened in broad daylight, in a playground or something where there were other people around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was pretty much the last straw by the sound of it and the NGOs got a lot of criticism for not letting the authorities do their jobs. They were accused of interfering with their animal rights protests and the chief minister had vowed not to let them come in the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a huge protest march tomorrow (Sunday) by the animal rights activists and the agencies. It should be interesting, and it could attract some trouble because the general public is already quite pissed off about the stray dog issue and basically want them gone. Given the crazy violent mob mentality here, I personally wouldn't put anything past the pissed off lot, so I just might head that way to check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I personally don't think its right to be killing off stray dogs, I say put more funds into the anti rabies and sterilization programs that the agencies already have running quite well. But then, I haven't had my kid be torn to shreds by stray dogs so I can't say the anti animal rights lot are wrong either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-3559326715000461720?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/3559326715000461720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=3559326715000461720' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3559326715000461720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3559326715000461720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/03/stray-dog-menace.html' title='Stray dog menace'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-4765219224007684008</id><published>2007-03-09T06:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T06:25:06.009-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Down with Prison Break !</title><content type='html'>I just watched episode 19 of season 2 of prison break and I'm not liking where this is headed. Season 1 was SOO much better, whereas season 2 is just dragging and you just want them all to die. The middle was sagging a lot, but now that we're at the end there is a lot of drama and suspense and the usual do or die scenes. There is going to be a third season but I can't say I'm looking forward to it. Michael Skofield lost his  appeal somewhere at the beginning of season 2. No tattoo, no appeal. Bah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-4765219224007684008?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/4765219224007684008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=4765219224007684008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4765219224007684008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/4765219224007684008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/03/down-with-prison-break.html' title='Down with Prison Break !'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-3685125355751657316</id><published>2007-03-06T07:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:31.637-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Jam - Ravindra Kalakshetra</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Re2OSc4bA3I/AAAAAAAAAB8/LoTXH-zTrcA/s1600-h/DSC00443.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Re2OSc4bA3I/AAAAAAAAAB8/LoTXH-zTrcA/s320/DSC00443.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038840005739086706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Re2OSs4bA4I/AAAAAAAAACE/jpiQiKt4C8c/s1600-h/DSC00444.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Re2OSs4bA4I/AAAAAAAAACE/jpiQiKt4C8c/s320/DSC00444.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038840010034054018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Re2OTM4bA5I/AAAAAAAAACM/4IwVDlhAdKU/s1600-h/DSC00447.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Re2OTM4bA5I/AAAAAAAAACM/4IwVDlhAdKU/s320/DSC00447.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038840018623988626" 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/22674066-3685125355751657316?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/3685125355751657316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=3685125355751657316' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3685125355751657316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3685125355751657316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/03/sunday-jam-ravindra-kalakshetra.html' title='Sunday Jam - Ravindra Kalakshetra'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Re2OSc4bA3I/AAAAAAAAAB8/LoTXH-zTrcA/s72-c/DSC00443.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-3894858670239583719</id><published>2007-03-04T03:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:32.697-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holi pictures</title><content type='html'>It was crazier than it looks in the pictures. In the midst of taking pictures at the National Games Village, I had to keep dodging color being thrown and hiding behind cars to avoid being hit by eggs. It was fun though. As I walked to NGV to meet my sister and the friends, everyone I saw on the road was just colorful. Even old people and babies. There was so much excitement and energy in the air and everyone was just happy. This is definitely one of my favorites times in India. Traffic never looked better. Even cars were colored. Good luck to everyone who will be pink and purple for the next few weeks !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/ReqrwFs8hyI/AAAAAAAAABU/cqfMVAhse6o/s1600-h/DSC00408.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/ReqrwFs8hyI/AAAAAAAAABU/cqfMVAhse6o/s320/DSC00408.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038027975820085026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Reqrw1s8hzI/AAAAAAAAABc/wcoF8n8lVgA/s1600-h/DSC00416.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Reqrw1s8hzI/AAAAAAAAABc/wcoF8n8lVgA/s320/DSC00416.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038027988704986930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/ReqrxVs8h0I/AAAAAAAAABk/C04_rezHGgY/s1600-h/DSC00417.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/ReqrxVs8h0I/AAAAAAAAABk/C04_rezHGgY/s320/DSC00417.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038027997294921538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Reqrx1s8h1I/AAAAAAAAABs/vEqF1f2YjW4/s1600-h/DSC00423.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Reqrx1s8h1I/AAAAAAAAABs/vEqF1f2YjW4/s320/DSC00423.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038028005884856146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/ReqryFs8h2I/AAAAAAAAAB0/BiU3XcBiCxU/s1600-h/DSC04482.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/ReqryFs8h2I/AAAAAAAAAB0/BiU3XcBiCxU/s320/DSC04482.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038028010179823458" 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/22674066-3894858670239583719?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/3894858670239583719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=3894858670239583719' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3894858670239583719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/3894858670239583719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/03/holi-pictures.html' title='Holi pictures'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/ReqrwFs8hyI/AAAAAAAAABU/cqfMVAhse6o/s72-c/DSC00408.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-2080642849548047444</id><published>2007-03-03T03:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T09:10:22.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Internship blues ....</title><content type='html'>I never realized how hard it is to get an internship over here. I would understand the hostility and people not picking up the phone AFTER seeing your resume, but just hearing the word internship seems to send people into a tizzy. So far, I keep hearing call back or we'll get back to you. Hardly any of them ask for the resume &amp; almost ALL HR heads in the city seem to be on holiday till Monday. I also don't understand how reputed companies let their multiple phone lines just ring. I would happily take on an internship as an operator if they're so lacking in that department !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of this, companies come to university as well and have their own intern recruitments. These are companies that are actually intern friendly and coming looking for us. Problem being that for every one company that comes, there will be some 600 people vying for 10 internships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided that it was time for drastic measures, it was time to explore the unexplored. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Corporate World. &lt;/span&gt;A place I had steered clear of all my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't realize that I would face a mob of well dressed people at 8.30 am on Thursday. I thought the time alone would cut away half the people. Maybe it did. Who knows. I didn't even know why I wanted to be there, I didn't even want to intern at this company, investment banking not being my thing. But I was a little apprehensive about all the places I wanted to intern at being so intern unfriendly, I thought it would've hurt to check out other avenues. Even if it did mean trading in my jeans for black pants with that oh so corporate crease running on down leg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.45am - The room is filled with so many people, yanking their ties and rubbing their sleepy                        eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9am      - Presentation by the Vice President and Head of Operations who happened to be 2 very                 good looking Americans. Bonus. And at least they were on time. And The operations                     guy was really too good looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.45am - End of presentation. Announce that everyone below a particular aggregate in their                         first year to leave. Everyone frantically whips out their phones and starts calculating. I                 make  it by .5%. I knew I shouldn't have partied so much in first year. Annnoyed that                 the corporates already make me feel inadequate. The crowd lessens considerably and                 now we're a group of 350.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10am - Aptitude test. Yay. I love these. That was till I saw the question booklet, which tested                    your language skills, quantitative theory, logical thinking and reasoning and attention to             detail. WTF. At least we had to answer by colouring the dots on the answer sheet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.15am - I realize that any math skill I had, I had left behind at the A/L exam hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.20am - 65 questions, 65 minutes. Given my lack in Math, I leave 10 questions in the QT                           section unanswered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.25am - They tell us that results will be out in 20 minutes to stick around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.45am - After getting a bite we come back and sit on the staircase and wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.25pm - We're still waiting. Everyone was still waiting. Around 300 people, hanging around                         impatiently. Sitting on steps, leaning on the railing and grouping in whatever corners                     they could find. I didn't really know why I was still there, after the initial presentation I                 knew that I would rather slit my wrist than work in this company, reputed it may be,                 but the work is definitely not me. But curiosity got the best of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.45pm - Around 100 names have been called so far but not mine. I start to panic. I look                             around and see the people whose names have been called. I'm a sore loser so I start                     glaring at everyone who made. "Jeennee Abraham" (What sort of a name is THAT?)                     "Nikhil Chopra" (It doesn't get more Indian than that) "A Agarwal, B Agarwal, C                             Agarwal ( family business or what) and finally, "Iromi" ( YESSSS i knew                             it !!! I'm a genius) was called about 5 before the last. I watch smugly as those who                         didn't make it leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2pm - Around 150 people make it. We're divided into groups and the round one interviews                     start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3pm - I'm done with my interview, which went well except for the part where they asked me if             I will be in the country for the entire 2 months, to which I say no because I have to                         return to Sri Lanka for at least a week to renew visa and also my foreign registry expires             by end May and by law, I have to leave the country and then enter. This doesn't go too                 well because they want interns to be there for the entire 2 weeks. By now I know I won't             make it to the next round, so I'm much less stressed out and somewhat relieved. All my             friends are here as well, so its just another day, minus classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.45pm - The people who make it to the next round are called in. My name is not called out and                 I'm not disappointed, I was expecting this. I walk out and head to another interview,                     this time at a place I really do want to work and they called me in even &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;without &lt;/span&gt;seeing                 my resume, which makes me very very happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things were looking up. At least the day hadn't been a complete waste. I had now eliminated one career path which I knew wasn't for me. I also need to brush up on my math, really, this day had taught me to be ashamed of my lack of math.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-2080642849548047444?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/2080642849548047444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=2080642849548047444' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2080642849548047444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2080642849548047444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/03/internship-blues.html' title='Internship blues ....'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-5459818227322831695</id><published>2007-02-28T05:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:33.237-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The axe murderer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/ReWNiE3dTRI/AAAAAAAAABI/fELqyPsMB7w/s1600-h/DSC00239.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/ReWNiE3dTRI/AAAAAAAAABI/fELqyPsMB7w/s320/DSC00239.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036587374845185298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By far, one of the most fascinating people I have ever met in my life. One of the most well read and extremely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;opinionated&lt;/span&gt; people I have come across. &lt;a href="http://devaluationinc.blogspot.com/"&gt;He &lt;/a&gt;is the axe murderer, the Nerd, the Cripple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;First year&lt;/span&gt; - Spent the first year of university obssessing with my curly hair and his axe and his quest to kill the entire right side of our class. And all those who are ugly and 'washte products'. He would hold one strand of my hair and say "Irooooooo" in a very disturbed way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Second year&lt;/span&gt;- Continues quest but discards axe. For now. Attempts to fulfill his goals with his words. Subtle beltings and sarcasm used classmates. On unsuspecting lecturers. Adds &lt;a href="http://devaluationinc.blogspot.com/2007/02/reflection.html"&gt;animal rights activists&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://devaluationinc.blogspot.com/2007/02/god-damn.html"&gt;bad tv shows&lt;/a&gt;, majority of university to list of people who must die. Fastly as he says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows what third year will bring. Till we find out, I will read his blog and be entertained. I will watch him defend his posts with comments like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"  middle finger da. middle finger. soon i will put up next post. too busy". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-5459818227322831695?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/5459818227322831695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=5459818227322831695' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/5459818227322831695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/5459818227322831695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/axe-murderer.html' title='The axe murderer'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/ReWNiE3dTRI/AAAAAAAAABI/fELqyPsMB7w/s72-c/DSC00239.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-5452188006782064222</id><published>2007-02-28T05:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T05:31:47.597-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A man searching for the perfect band</title><content type='html'>This &lt;a href="http://bailabeat.blogspot.com/"&gt;man&lt;/a&gt;, he searches high and low for "the perfect band machang". He is very picky and takes time to decide. He plays guitar and apparently sings interesting songs on stage when intoxicated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After weeks of constant badgering and coming up with the same 2 solutions, he finally took my advice and started his own blog. YES! So I hope his blog finally leads him to his perfect band, which I hope we will see on stage soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has reviewed 'Simplicity' and uses very interesting phrases to describe things. Eg : "I was left speechless and with my jaw playin with the beach sand on the floor for the two of them conquered the sheer complexity of each piece they played". I quite liked this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome Confab and good luck with your quest !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-5452188006782064222?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/5452188006782064222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=5452188006782064222' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/5452188006782064222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/5452188006782064222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/man-searching-for-perfect-band.html' title='A man searching for the perfect band'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-6409109077006784776</id><published>2007-02-28T01:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T01:26:56.859-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To see Russel Peters again !</title><content type='html'>I would give anything. I would pay another grand to watch him again. I laughed for one and a half hours straight. I thought it would repeated jokes from Outsourced but there was nothing old. Everything was brand new and funnier than ever. He was in his element, poking fun at everything from Indians to George Bush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He made fun of Sri Lankans, that was obviously a given. He was talking about how he sees India as a colour chart, where if you take the people, they're very fair in the North and as you work your way down, the people get darker and darker till the people at the very bottom are so black, they make black people look fair. Then he was like "I was in Sri Lanka last year and I saw this dude who was so dark, I'm sure people kept getting him and his shadow mixed up!" Ha ha very funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His opening act was this hilarious guy called Rusty who looked just like Jack from Will &amp;amp; Grace. He enacted scenes from all his favourite movies and it was too funny for words. He did a brilliant one of Tom Cruise in Top Gun 2 and Mike Myers high on ecstasy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a brilliant show and I hope he comes back for another show soon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-6409109077006784776?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/6409109077006784776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=6409109077006784776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/6409109077006784776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/6409109077006784776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/to-see-russel-peters-again.html' title='To see Russel Peters again !'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-8477375245661825204</id><published>2007-02-25T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T07:10:27.561-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clickjobs.com commercial</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K39Wiq-qdRw"&gt;Another &lt;/a&gt;superb commercial. Clickjobs.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-8477375245661825204?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/8477375245661825204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=8477375245661825204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8477375245661825204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8477375245661825204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/clickjobscom-commercial.html' title='Clickjobs.com commercial'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-8065674561194918853</id><published>2007-02-25T06:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T07:01:28.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nike Cricket Commerical</title><content type='html'>Definitely one of the best commercials I have seen in a very long time. There is nothing I can critisize about it, its just perfect and has captured the essence of India (and all its madness and mayhem) and what Nike is all about. The soundtrack is just right for it too. Brilliant stuff.&lt;br /&gt;This is part of Nike's tie up with the cricket team, signing up as their official apparel sponsor and their Nike Cricket World Cup push. The five year contract paid BCCI 196 crores and the company is targeting sales of $1 billion in India for the next five years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Advertisements in India are of extremely high standards and this one tops my previous faves - the Happy Kumar job ad and Monster.com - Stuck in the wrong job ad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out the Nike Cricket Commercial &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mpvuz8gg79Q"&gt;here. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-8065674561194918853?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/8065674561194918853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=8065674561194918853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8065674561194918853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8065674561194918853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/nike-cricket-commerical.html' title='Nike Cricket Commerical'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-7435375298312510663</id><published>2007-02-24T06:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-24T06:53:46.104-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To see or not to see</title><content type='html'>Is it better to have been born blind or to lose sight after some years ? If I had to choose I don't know which is preferable. Obviously being not-blind is not a choice here, its one or the other of whether you prefer being born blind or losing your sight later. One one hand I think I might prefer being born blind because then I wouldn't know what I was missing out on. BUT, at the same time I think I would be blessed if I got the opportunity to see everything around me at some point in my life and not have to imagine what a colour is or what a shape is. At least I can visualize things I can't see anymore if I had seen it at some point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this was going through my mind while I sat at this place for almost 4 hours, using a Brailling machine and making stickers to paste on language tapes used by blind people to learn English. I was interacting mostly with blind people because the institute where I have started volunteering, are mostly run by people who are blind, which I think is great. My friend S, told me today that he lost his sight when he was 17 and that he always wanted to be a Psychologist so he loves to talk to me about everything I do at uni and about my practical work. He never did pursue his dream, but ended up with a MBA. He now works full time at the institute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a little familiar with Braille now, after doing so much work using the blessed Brailling machine. Its so complicated to figure out those little dots and I feel so blessed not have learned it. But I have so much respect for these people I meet everyday, they haven't let their disabilities stop them and have gone to accomplish so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started volunteering at this institute which works with those who are differently abled a few days ago. I initially went there to get some info for one of my Psychology projects and I was really impressed by the place. They mainly work with blind and deaf people, and also some mentally and physically challenged people. They teach them computer skills using special programs like JAWS, for those who are blind, teach english and other programs, and finally place them in companies like Shell, HP, and Infosys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of their adminstration is blind, which I thought was great because it is one of the most informative and well run institutes I've found in Bangalore. There are lots of people in and out of the office, and everywhere there are classes going on and something happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think i could ever figure out which one is better ... but I guess its all about making the best out of what we're handed out and being grateful for what we have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-7435375298312510663?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/7435375298312510663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=7435375298312510663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/7435375298312510663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/7435375298312510663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/to-see-or-not-to-see.html' title='To see or not to see'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-255894055433758257</id><published>2007-02-17T04:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T04:37:17.878-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Music &amp; Lyrics</title><content type='html'>I really liked Music &amp; Lyrics, starring Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore. I thought they both were ideal for the roles of Alex Fletcher and Sophie Fisher. I found the movie extremely witty, which is a refreshing change from the usual. Especially coming from Grant, the lines were just made for him. I am, though, biased when it comes to Hugh Grant, therefore I loved him in Music &amp;amp; Lyrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was initially wondering about Drew Barrymore, but she surpassed my expectations. She looked beautiful and portrayed the quirky and offbeat Sophie Fisher perfectly. The music was of course, catchy even though excruciatingly corny and I found myself singing 'Pop!' for a long time after the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dialogues were very funny and witty, even though the entire plot was kinda predictable but sweet nonetheless. The heart warming, make-you-wanna-go-aww-but-roll-your-eyes-also kind. There was a super dialogue which went something like this :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex (singing the song they wrote and making changes) : "Clown isn't right"&lt;br /&gt;Sophie: "Thats cloud. Why would you put a clown in your bed?! "&lt;br /&gt;Alex: "It would not be the first time".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put this together with Grant's famous deadpan look and the Brit accent and you've got a winner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, there was one thing I didn't like and was a little taken aback by. Towards the end, there is a concert by pop star Cora, who the song was written for by Alex and Sophie. The concert starts off with the unveiling of a huge Buddha statue and Cora comes from inside the statue dancing. Throughout the concert, the massive Buddha statues is there on stage, while extremely scantily clad women were shaking their booty  and dancing away in front of the statue, which I found extremely insulting. This could have been done differently somehow in the movie. Cora's fascination with Buddhism and all things spiritual definitely added a lot of humour to the movie, especially her "ShanTi, ShanTi", but the statue at the concert could have been done away with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But despite, great movie and definitely worth a watch, especially to see Hugh Grant shaking his ass throughout the film !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-255894055433758257?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/255894055433758257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=255894055433758257' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/255894055433758257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/255894055433758257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/music-lyrics.html' title='Music &amp; Lyrics'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-8949085779797704493</id><published>2007-02-17T03:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T04:04:29.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Piranhas &amp; Oceans</title><content type='html'>I saw two of my favorite Indian Bands in concert on Thursday and Friday - &lt;a href="http://www.loungepiranha.com/"&gt;Lounge Piranha&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.indianoceanmusic.com/"&gt;Indian Ocean&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lounge Piranha is a very much newer band compared to Indian Ocean but their music is brilliant. They have a very eclectic sound, very unique and actually, a sound of their own. The songs are accompanied by brilliant visuals and videos in the background, along with a variety of instruments, my personal favorite being the Dijeridoo, which is just mind blowing altogether. Their own comps are excellent and I wish they would release an album soon !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indian Ocean, who were formed in the 80's are one of India's much loved bands. Their music is a combination of Indian classical music and rock, but yet, again, a sound very much unique to the band. According to them, their songs are of transforming the self and the world, of liberation and redemption. They just released a new album which is the soundtrack for the new movie 'Black Friday' and I love the song 'Bandeh' (Click &lt;a href="http://www.indianoceanmusic.com/mp3/bandeh.mp3"&gt;here &lt;/a&gt;to listen). Their songs are not restricted to one language, but to a lot of dialects, which is outstanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both concerts were great, energy packed and the audience had a brilliant time. Lounge played for one hour straight, non stop, without dropping the pace even by a notch which was awesome and something that a lot of bands fail to do in long concerts. Indian Ocean had their fans dancing and singing along throughout their one and a half hour concert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, 2 great days of music !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-8949085779797704493?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/8949085779797704493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=8949085779797704493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8949085779797704493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/8949085779797704493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/piranhas-oceans.html' title='Piranhas &amp; Oceans'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-2111501327505918112</id><published>2007-02-17T03:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:30:34.204-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Streets</title><content type='html'>I have to submit photographs for an upcoming human rights festival so I roamed the main streets of Bangalore, clicking away whatever I felt was interesting. I ended up taking almost 100 pictures and had a terrible time trying to narrow it down to 10. Here are some of my favorites.&lt;br /&gt;More pictures on &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/iromiperera"&gt;flickr&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rdbp1zQFqUI/AAAAAAAAAAU/eg2KSKqkrmM/s1600-h/DSC00374.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rdbp1zQFqUI/AAAAAAAAAAU/eg2KSKqkrmM/s320/DSC00374.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032466744133134658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RdbtgTQFqWI/AAAAAAAAAAk/N-kxy-2O67s/s1600-h/DSC00388.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RdbtgTQFqWI/AAAAAAAAAAk/N-kxy-2O67s/s320/DSC00388.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032470772812458338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rdbu4TQFqXI/AAAAAAAAAAs/xuvnV4A1tT4/s1600-h/DSC00347.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rdbu4TQFqXI/AAAAAAAAAAs/xuvnV4A1tT4/s320/DSC00347.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032472284640946546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RdbrLDQFqVI/AAAAAAAAAAc/51pE-sIG5EM/s1600-h/DSC00336.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/RdbrLDQFqVI/AAAAAAAAAAc/51pE-sIG5EM/s320/DSC00336.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032468208716982610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rdbm0TQFqTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/B1cO3OQQJBg/s1600-h/DSC00361.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rdbm0TQFqTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/B1cO3OQQJBg/s320/DSC00361.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032463419828447538" 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/22674066-2111501327505918112?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/2111501327505918112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=2111501327505918112' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2111501327505918112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/2111501327505918112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/streets.html' title='Streets'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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/_6yi8fq8hcPw/Rdbp1zQFqUI/AAAAAAAAAAU/eg2KSKqkrmM/s72-c/DSC00374.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-5355267763247121791</id><published>2007-02-15T21:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T21:44:43.447-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Russel Peters Live in India</title><content type='html'>And I'm going to see the show ! I just booked my tickets after waiting for days for them to be out. He was initially supposed to perform at my university auditorium but the venue was changed yesterday. But anyway, I'M going to see Russel Peters !!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-5355267763247121791?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/5355267763247121791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=5355267763247121791' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/5355267763247121791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/5355267763247121791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/russel-peters-live-in-india.html' title='Russel Peters Live in India'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-117145941047689869</id><published>2007-02-14T04:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T05:23:30.503-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Purnima</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/1600/140985/DSC00236.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/320/289096/DSC00236.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/1600/214817/DSC00238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/320/237841/DSC00238.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/1600/765204/DSC00232.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/320/533842/DSC00232.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;More pictures &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/iromi/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-117145941047689869?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/117145941047689869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=117145941047689869' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/117145941047689869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/117145941047689869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/purnima.html' title='Purnima'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-117145763304397829</id><published>2007-02-14T04:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T04:53:53.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sister</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/1600/61938/DSC00005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/400/162704/DSC00005.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/1600/489228/DSC00007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/400/682226/DSC00007.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/1600/179354/DSC00004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/400/351866/DSC00004.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/1600/706950/DSC00008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/400/903792/DSC00008.jpg" alt="" 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/22674066-117145763304397829?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/117145763304397829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=117145763304397829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/117145763304397829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/117145763304397829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/sister.html' title='The Sister'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-117093857417003723</id><published>2007-02-08T04:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T05:08:17.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to Shikha</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/1600/11267/Smile_by_grisloup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/320/860760/Smile_by_grisloup.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Picture by &lt;happy&gt; &lt;a href="http://grisloup.deviantart.com/"&gt;Sudhanva&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promised this very persistent female that I would dedicate a post to her today. I think it was in the spirit of 'flower power' which made the 2 of us become one team, being surrounded by way too many males today, constantly picking on, well, everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shikha, is insanely talented and I'm a huge fan of her poetry. Her blog, '&lt;a href="http://leavingitbe.blogspot.com"&gt;leaving it be' &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is one of my favourite blogs. She also got me hooked on to &lt;a href="http://www.57productions.com/jukebox.php"&gt;poetry jukebox &lt;/a&gt;and I discovered my latest favourite 'The poem that was really a list".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shiga is an ad enthusiast and in her &lt;a href="http://www.addledads.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog  &lt;/a&gt;dedicated to advertisements, describes this addiction - "As a kid, the only way to shut me up when I would cry, was to sit me down in front of a television and let me watch advertisments. My dad had made an entire tape of ads just for me... or rather, for his peace of mind. I'm still intrigued (or at least amused) by ads. Now I may not know much about ads, but from the looks of it, neither do a lot of people in the industry. So well...". I love how she had put it across, there is so much SHIKHA in it. That sarcasm and that wit, I can almost visualize her famous facial expressions which go along with the eccentric ways. How she puts up with everyone taking her ass for being a Maadu (?) I don't know but as I urged her earlier, "throw em mustard seeds on the boys" !!! And she is also just SO persistent, a self appointed cheerleader. She convinced me to stay  (as long as i did) at Semiotics and also convinced me actually write the paper for semiotics on nursery rhymes doing her cheerleader thing and giving me ideas and finally getting me to write the damn thing, which I didn't think any could EVER do. Anyone who knows that such tasks are really impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shiga, that note you wrote on my palm is not there anymore but I remembered !! :)&lt;/happy&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-117093857417003723?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/117093857417003723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=117093857417003723' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/117093857417003723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/117093857417003723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/ode-to-shikha.html' title='Ode to Shikha'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-117093751061515685</id><published>2007-02-08T04:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T04:25:10.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cul - Ah</title><content type='html'>It was a moment I wanted to remember forever. Just freeze that scene. Maybe I was feeling sentimental or maybe it just too early in the morning to be functioning without breakfast, but despite, one of those moments where I wish I had my camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 people, who I've come to know in the past 2 years, some of them very well, some of them not so, but well enough to feel that  overwhelming affection  that comes up here and there.  Its only with some of them that I spend 6+ hours everyday with, but at that moment it didn't matter. 8 people, sitting in a row at the Mount Carmel College, some writing songs, some writing poetry and the others writing editorials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had gone for MCC's annual fest, named 'Cul-Ah', and were taking part in the literary events. There was no usual creative writing and short stories, today is was writing songs and editorials. It took a good half and hour for everyone to get their creative juices flowing. Till then it was Shikha and I vs the testosterone and the usual discussions about everything under the sun. It was only after everyone had started doing their writing that I looked up and saw the concentration and furious scribbling that I wanted to take a picture and keep it with me always. There's nothing I love more that being around people who love doing what I do. Write. There's nothing better than that silence. Of course, it was occasionally broken with the usual questions of spelling .. "Is this how you spell Chantilli?" and of course my battle with "occurrence". Then there was the debate between R and R about  Bush's 'Give war a chance', their topic of editorial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were of course strategically placed, we sat right near the food so that we would be the first when they opened. The silence didn't last forever of course, but for the time it did, it was wonderful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-117093751061515685?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/117093751061515685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=117093751061515685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/117093751061515685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/117093751061515685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/cul-ah.html' title='Cul - Ah'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-117087284179343309</id><published>2007-02-07T09:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T10:27:21.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Bee !!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/1600/628990/bee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/320/819269/bee.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aftab, is 23 today. As I reminded him a little while ago, in 2 yrs at this time, he'll be 25. In 7 yrs, he'll be in his 30s. I hope I added to his birthday cheer =) His birthdays and I never really go well together, given that I always buy him a card after taking ages to choose and then it never reaches him on time. I won't go into detail because I'm sure I have come up with a lot excuses which he is SURE to remember and I'm gonna get busted at some point. So, bee, while I find the post office and be sure to "sri lanka bhaiya", I hope this is good enough =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really remember when I first met this strange boy, I know it was while we were in school but I draw a blank after that. But what I DO remember are the good times - especially our random conversations and scandalous news exchanges, which used to go on and on for hours. I remember him still being my friend, ha ha, when my left foot blew up into 4 times its size. He would sweetly listen to me ranting about doctors and yet be seen in public with me and my, err, enlarged foot. Keep me company during concerts and parties and make sure I didn't make my foot worse. I remember a phone call at 8am in Dec 04, when I was at work, from him, when I was expecting him to land only a week later, and then cancelling all my apppointments for the day and rushing off to meet him. Thankfully, my editor was never inclined to fire me at any point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been a long time but I'm glad he's still there, annoying as always, never calling me by my name, but as 'latha', which became 'lathagi' once I came to India. The only person who checks my blog everyday and has something to say about everything. He's someone I can always count on (thanks for all the millions of txts I make you send)  and someone who always manages to cheer me up. He keeps making me renew my ratings and I've made him a 100 promises over the years, and vowed to tell him certain things FIRST. I hope he never loses that brattiness in him, that spoilt child inclination to always be the one at the top of every list, that terrible sense of humour and in your face honesty which I will always associate him with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So bee, please deflate your ego after reading this and have a wonderful day. Would love it if all of us in India (here and Delhi!) could be there today but then, May promises to be fun =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-117087284179343309?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/117087284179343309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=117087284179343309' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/117087284179343309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/117087284179343309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/happy-birthday-bee.html' title='Happy Birthday Bee !!'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-117072980181925659</id><published>2007-02-05T18:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T18:43:21.833-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The return of the mobs</title><content type='html'>Well they've done it, schools and colleges are closed today, offices and companies open here and there. Thankfully they haven't disconnected cable and internet otherwise todays holiday would be of no use. Thursday is an all state Bandh, meaning that the entire state of Karnataka will be brought to a standstill - everything (schools, colleges, shops, offices etc ) closed, no transport. People have been urged to stay at home, stock up on essentials. All this over the Cauvery dispute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todays papers say that Karnataka is threatening to take legal action over the verdict.The much awaited verdict of theCauvery Water Disputes Tribunal was finally out yesterday, creating quite a bit of chaos in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Bangalore&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; and the rest of the state of Karnataka. The Tribunal  today allocated 419 tmc ft of water annually to Tamil Nadu and 270 tmc ft to Karnataka, 30 tmc ft to Kerala and 7 tmc ft to &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Pondicherry&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main headline is all of yesterdays papers were about the verdict which was to be released at 2pm and also an appeal by the Chief Minister of Karnataka for the public to remain calm after the verdict. Karnataka asked for 465 tmc ft of water and Tamil Nadu asked for 562 tmc ft of water. So when the verdict was out, with Karnataka receiving half of what was asked and with TN receiving much more than Karnataka, the Kannadigas reacted badly. All bus services to TN from &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Bangalore&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; and the rest of Karnataka was stopped and there was some rioting in certain areas over the state, with people blocking the main road to Tamil Nadu and setting fire to tyres all over the road and the usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm quite apprehensive about situations like this &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Bangalore&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;, mainly because the mob mentality here is something else. You have to see it to believe it. I mean, coming from &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Sri Lanka&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; you think you've seen it all, but really, come to &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Bangalore&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; at times like this. Or better yet, when a famous actor dies. When Rajkumar died last April, the city came to a halt. I would hate to be in Chennai when Rajnikanth dies or in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Bombay&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; when Amitabh Bachchan dies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People just go crazy, setting everything around on fire, breaking into shops, breaking cars and causing maximum destruction over issues that does not require any such behaviour. Companies, especially IT, lose millions and millions of profit everyday at times like this. We're in the midst of exams and during the paper yesterday everyone was asked to leave as soon as they finished instead waiting till the end. Getting an auto home was another story all together, with auto guys hiking up rates or just refusing to go !! Its pretty dangerous to be out on the roads I'm told, and offices are shutting and people rushing home. Terrible traffic on the roads as well a few hours after the verdict, but within a few hours the roads were deserted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Yesterdays paper said that over 100 people have been detained in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Bangalore&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; since Sunday in order to minimize trouble after the verdict. The police had been instructed to round up "rowdy sheeters, anti social elements and trouble makers", according to the Times of India. Todays paper says that police are having 'peace meetings' with those who are capable of causing more trouble. As funny as it sounds, this is how authorities resort to reduce trouble. Thankfully, Bangalore wasn't too bad yesterday as authorities were geared for the much expected trouble and thousands of police were deployed all over much before the verdict. More than 800 people arrested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   This is pretty bad timing, given that the Aero India show is due to start tomorrow, with people from more than 40 countries flooding the city, hotels fully booked for the past few months. Thursday will be the difficult as there is no transport and everything closed but organizers have said that the show will go on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-117072980181925659?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/117072980181925659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=117072980181925659' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/117072980181925659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/117072980181925659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/02/return-of-mobs.html' title='The return of the mobs'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116982921147990581</id><published>2007-01-26T08:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T08:33:31.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You know you're from Sri Lanka when....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hilarious forward i received !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You call an older person you've never met before uncle or aunty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Your relatives alone could populate a small city&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Everyone is a family friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You use chilli sauce instead of tomato ketchup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Your parents always say "on the light" instead of "turn the light on".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*When "Aney"or "Aiiyoo" is a standard word in everyday conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You use banana leaves instead of plates, to eat rice and curry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You get it on to baila music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You refer to friends by calling them "Machan" instead of "dude"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You have encountered, been pursued, or bitten by a snake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You don't remember how to spell your long-ass last name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You find that white people will choose death over trying to pronounce your name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You run out of space when filling 'full name' in forms, thanks to your 'ge' names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You rock a pimped out three wheeler when you drive down main street to check out the hoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You haggle at the dollar store because you know that chocolate bar just cost you a 100 rupees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Siddhalepe= Aspirin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You tell your parents you got 98% on a test, and they ask you what happened to the other 2%.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You are ALWAYS taking off and putting on your shoes wherever you go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*When the car allows 7 people yet you seem to fit 20 in&lt;br /&gt;there..!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*When cursing the Government is the highlight of every dinner conversation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*No one ever seems to call ahead of time to say they are coming over for a visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Your parents worry what other people will think when your seen out in public with boys or if your "carrying on with someone"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Your parents worry what other people will say about you having a girlfriend/boyfriend or better yet "an affair"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*At a function or party your parents or you say they're leaving but they take another hour saying goodbye or talking for longer....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116982921147990581?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116982921147990581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116982921147990581' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116982921147990581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116982921147990581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/01/you-know-youre-from-sri-lanka-when.html' title='You know you&apos;re from Sri Lanka when....'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22674066.post-116949216248113355</id><published>2007-01-22T10:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T10:59:44.633-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am</title><content type='html'>Listening to Africa by Toto, Super freak by Rick James, Down with Disease by Phish and The Tribute by Tenacious D, Kiss by Prince. Over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missing home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Typing my third post for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading about the sociology of family in India.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a random conversation with my all time random chat buddy, Afi. Or bee as I know him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Counting the days till 2 of my favourite people come to see me next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching Oldboy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for Episode 14 of Prison Break to release.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116949216248113355?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116949216248113355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116949216248113355' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116949216248113355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116949216248113355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-am.html' title='I am'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116949145527607357</id><published>2007-01-22T10:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T23:52:02.366-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Government Inspector</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/1600/738464/GI.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/400/680252/GI.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Government Inspector by Nikolai Gogol and directed by Hetti goes on stage from 26th -28th Jan 2007 at the Lionel Wendt. I wish I was there to watch it, mainly because I've seen most of these people act from the time we were in school and biased as I may be, I'm yet to watch a play by the now Old Royalists that I don't like. I love their plays. Especially when the ever so talented Hetti directs. I would LOVE to see some of their Shakespeare performances again. But while we unfortunately can't, I suggest that everyone sees this play. It definitely promises to be another great one. Even if the play sucks, its definitely worthwhile seeing some familiar faces on this poster !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116949145527607357?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116949145527607357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116949145527607357' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116949145527607357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116949145527607357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/01/government-inspector.html' title='The Government Inspector'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116949062906418174</id><published>2007-01-22T09:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T10:30:29.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blowin' me up</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" class="white"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;'She was disco lights on a Friday night &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;She moves across the floor' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Ahhh what memories a pop song can bring .... i heard this song today on VH1 and just &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;made me laugh,taking me back to 2003, when &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: georgia;" href="http://electra.blogsome.com"&gt;Subha&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;, nangi and I used to LOVE this song &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;( so sue us) and just hearing it on the radio would bring so much joy and we would &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;immediately starting singing along and dancing, much to my driver's dismay. I remember Subs claiming that it  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;was only in our car that she ever hears this song and watching her doing her 'cool' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;moves to to the drums =) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Feeling damn nostalgic, i started going through all my pictures and i found pictures&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; of my 20th bday, when the girls (subha, renu, smriti, dayo and shibani) threw me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;a surprise party at green path. I could only take a couple of hrs off work and I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;don't know how they managed it. They got my favourite cake and helium balloons. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Those were happy times, when we were all together and not scattered all over &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;the world, when Smriti was bald and Subha was tattoo-less, Renu was still, well Renu, and so was Shibs, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;and Dayo and I had no clue what we wanted to do with life. We all look so different &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;then. But happy. SO deliriously happy. So many happy memories. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Beautiful Radhini, my other half. I can't pin point one single memory, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;because there has been way too many. Its been a short time but too much has happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; We're travelled the country, and India, lets not forget India =) There are way too &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;many pictures, one or two crazy videos to sum up our times together. Tokyo drift. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Trinco. Clancys. Volvo buses. Beruwala. Cutting chicken. Sneaking out of her house, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;sneaking back into her room. Boyfriends.  Cutting classes. Pushing unsuspecting people into pools. She's one of the few people I can love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;unconditionally, no matter what happens. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;If walls could talk, then my best friend Ashini's bedroom would be the death of us all. That &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;room (in her different houses over the years !) has seen heavy duty bonding, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;crucial life altering decisions, earth shattering secrets , hours of not studying &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;and random talks. I'll never forget Ashi, Dayo, Hashintha and I spending hours and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;hours just talking, mostly when we were supposed to be studying, while wishing that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;the tuition person would just NOT turn up that day. Diets were forgotten in that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;room, confessions and soul baring and long lasting friendships were the order of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;the day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Deanne, my better self. Knowing each other since I was 5, we have put up dances &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;during family holidays, travelling mothers and generally lost fathers. Identical &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;pink striped shorts to a blissful year living together in India. A time where coffee &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;and a 5th floor balcony could make everything feel alright. Hours were pretty much &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;minutes for us back then. I've seen night become day while our talks carried on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" class="white"&gt;&lt;pre class="borderblkbold"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Anushan and Kp, two of my absolute favourites. Only Anushan would come play Monopoly&lt;br /&gt;with me the whole day when I was down. Spend absurd amount of time on his balcony&lt;br /&gt;and coffee stop.Only Kp could endure my random chatter, and go along with our mad&lt;br /&gt;plans and trips. Beach parties. Subha, Kp and I exploring Kalmunai and finding a cow skull which they named Yorrick, which Subha eventually lost in her room. Kp went to Kalmunai as&lt;br /&gt;Kalpika and came back renamed as Guppy. Its the only name Subha and I refer to.&lt;br /&gt;Still. Only Anushan &amp; Kp would get me kottu (the one thing I forgot to eat that time&lt;br /&gt; !)the night before I left, and only Nush would tie a purple bow on it before&lt;br /&gt;giving it to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" class="white"&gt;&lt;pre class="borderblkbold"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Sunday Times !!! I had such a great time the one year I worked there. I remember my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;first day at work, I went out for lunch with everyone and turned up 3 hours later. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;The best place I ever worked at. I met so many brilliant people and after a while, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;working past midnight was actually fun. Looking forward to pay day. Busting most of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;it that day itself at lunch with everyone. Sharing the woes of writers block and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;deadlines and cruel editors. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I wish I could hold on to all the good times, when things were great and life was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;wonderful. I think I'm terribly homesick after so long and I've forgotten how &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;horrible it feels. Going down memory lane is certainly not helping =) I can't wait till I see all these people in a few months .... going back home is always worthwhile. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline; font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" class="white"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;" class="white"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &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/22674066-116949062906418174?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116949062906418174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116949062906418174' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116949062906418174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116949062906418174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/01/blowin-me-up.html' title='Blowin&apos; me up'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116835098123445295</id><published>2007-01-09T05:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T05:56:21.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To love like this</title><content type='html'>Is to ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you leave me, I think I might die."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To you, I give you, my heart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you love me forever for those three days? "&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116835098123445295?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116835098123445295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116835098123445295' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116835098123445295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116835098123445295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/01/to-love-like-this.html' title='To love like this'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116793525629020869</id><published>2007-01-04T09:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T10:27:41.766-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Babel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/1600/305697/babel_l200607272246.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/320/711065/babel_l200607272246.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definitely one of the better movies I've seen since of late. Definitely one of the best of 2006. Starring Brad Pitt, Cate Blanchett, Gael Garcia Bernal, Koji Yakusho and directed by Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu (who also directed 21 grams), Babel is about 3 stories, taking place in 3 locations around the world, each connected directly and indirectly. While there is a star studded cast, it also has completely unknown foreign faces, brilliant acting by 2 Moroccon kids and many more. The cinematography is just brilliant , of Moroccan highlands to the Tokyo skyline, and takes us through the story of an American couple travelling in the Morocco, of two Moroccan boys who accidently shoot the American female, a nanny who takes her two charges to her son's wedding in Mexico and a Japanese girl who is deaf-mute, trying to find her place within Japan's degenerative youth. A few confusing and melodramatic scenes here and there leaves the viewer feeling slightly choked, but all in all, this movie is definitely a MUST SEE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116793525629020869?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116793525629020869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116793525629020869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116793525629020869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116793525629020869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2007/01/babel.html' title='Babel'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116608042698025699</id><published>2006-12-13T23:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T05:52:23.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Indians are dustbin</title><content type='html'>They really are. Just kidding ..My friend Abhimanyu is a brilliant mimic and can imitate people to the T. He encountered an Indian at Pecos and here's a &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n13mxQaqIb0"&gt;video &lt;/a&gt;of him relating what he saw !!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116608042698025699?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116608042698025699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116608042698025699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116608042698025699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116608042698025699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/12/indians-are-dustbin.html' title='Indians are dustbin'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116549916538289143</id><published>2006-12-07T05:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-07T05:46:05.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Radhs comes to town ! =)</title><content type='html'>I had the best surprise ever yesterday .... my best friend Radhs, who i havent seen for an year came to India yday to stay with me for 2 weeks !! I've been mourning about the fact that she was in Sri Lanka when i was not there so seeing her here was just the most unexpected thing ... She's like part of my family so its damn annoying that I get to see her only once an year and her coming to stay with me in India was  something i never thought would happen  !!! Happy days ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/1600/807944/DSC03547.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5108/2310/320/150704/DSC03547.jpg" alt="" 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/22674066-116549916538289143?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116549916538289143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116549916538289143' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116549916538289143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116549916538289143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/12/radhs-comes-to-town.html' title='Radhs comes to town ! =)'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116496133496990000</id><published>2006-12-01T00:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T00:24:09.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am damn unsatisfied to be killed in this way.</title><content type='html'>This &lt;a href="http://www.esatclear.ie/%7Eirish.trade/bj000004.htm"&gt;site&lt;/a&gt;, its the best. It has actualy english subtitles that have been used in films made in Hong kong ... here are some of the good ones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Fatty, you with your thick face have hurt my instep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - A normal person wouldn't steal pituitaries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - The bullets inside are very hot.  Why do I feel so cold?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- This will be of fine service for you, you bag of the scum. I am sure you will not mind that I remove your manhoods and leave them out on the dessert flour for your aunts to eat. [sic, of course]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Yah-hah, evil spider woman! I have captured you by the short rabbits and can now deliver you violently to your gynecologist for a thorough examination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also check out &lt;a href="http://www.esatclear.ie/%7Eirish.trade/bj000002.htm"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116496133496990000?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116496133496990000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116496133496990000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116496133496990000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116496133496990000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-am-damn-unsatisfied-to-be-killed-in.html' title='I am damn unsatisfied to be killed in this way.'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116358389630942338</id><published>2006-11-15T01:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T01:44:56.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prison Break</title><content type='html'>Move over lost and scrubs, prison break is my new obsession. I've been hearing bout it for some time but finally got around to watching it. And I'm blown away&lt;a href="http://www.fox.com/prisonbreak/"&gt;. Prison Break&lt;/a&gt; is about a guy names Michael who goes to prison on purpose in order to save his brother who is to be executed in a month for a crime he didn't commit. And how does he plan on doing this? By tatooing the blueprint of the prison on his body before going there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a brilliant group of writers they are. After the first 3 episodes of season 1,  I was wondering how on earth they could prolong this story for some 20+ episodes and then another season. Every episode makes you think that its going to end very soon. Wentworth Miller, who plays Michael, is a brilliant actor and his performances just excellent. The rest of the cast is also great , the plot is just astounding and all in all,  prison break is one of the best shows since of late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/gallery/ss/0455275/PB485.jpg.html?path=gallery&amp;path_key=0455275&amp;amp;seq=27"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i.imdb.com/Photos/Ss/0455275/0051rtaF.jpg" oncontextmenu="return false;" galleryimg="no" onmousedown="return false;" onmousemove="return false;" alt="Photo of &amp;quot;Prison Break&amp;quot;,  Wentworth Miller" border="0" height="600" width="450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;                                       Wentworth Miller&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/22674066-116358389630942338?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116358389630942338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116358389630942338' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116358389630942338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116358389630942338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/11/prison-break.html' title='Prison Break'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116342948259550746</id><published>2006-11-13T06:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T06:51:23.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fighting cynicism</title><content type='html'>Today I attended this awards ceremony organized by a friend's father where the main purpose of work was fighting corruption. He was talking about corruption a few days back and he was telling us how cynical our generation has become with regard to making a difference and change. Its true and our way of thinking is so built in and I can't see how much change in thinking we can see in our lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The seminar today mainly focused on school kids who had written essays and made suggestions as to how they think people can fight corruption. And I must say I was very impressed. I'm probably one of the biggest cynics of all and I mainly went to just to hear uncle speak and for high tea that followed (so sue me). But just hearing about what these 12-14 year olds had to say I was pretty amazed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I told one of my friends that I was going for a talk on anti-corruption, he said "this country runs on corruption" and went on to say how everyone likes it that way and that no one should try to change it. And its true. If not for corruption, whether it be in India or Sri Lanka or wherever, things wouldn't get done as fast as we would like. Drunk driving. Passport renewal. Any work at a government office. Documents. Legal problems. Everyone complains about corruption, but they would not think twice before slipping something under the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why fight corruption ? Its something that is so in built, can anyone see it go away ? This is the mindset most of us have. But the kids I heard today had something different to say. But then, they are still kids. Give them a couple of years and they'll be burning up their anti-corruption essays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not just corruption. Take peace. Take anything. Everyone is so resigned to it. No one believes that anything will come out of the talks, the walks, the marches, the strikes, the placard holding and the slogan shouting, the panel discussions and what not. Sure they will all participate but no one really believes that anything will come out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did the people become such cynics in such a short period of time? Why do we give up even before giving it a try? Not everything has to remain the same. If you don't stand up and fight there will never be change. Where would women be if not for change in thinking and way of life? Are we willing to live like this forever? So accepting of everything that is wrong which is just dancing in front of us everyday? Maybe we should try positive thinking for once and just see what happens. Change doesnt take place overnight. Its a process, a long one and a hard one. But its something that everyone should try sometime. Its been too long, just going along with everything that is just so wrong. You know its been too long when you &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;begin &lt;/span&gt;to expect corruption and bribery, for plans to fail, for things to go wrong. Sometimes we're surprised to hear of a system working the way it should be. That things can happen the way it is supposed to. And its pathetic that it has come to such a level. Man has "developed" certainly over the years, but somewhere he just went wrong and his thinking got all warped. And we being the accepting and gullible ones that we are, happily go along with it and do nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People should stop fighting corruption and bribery and war and all that. Fight &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cynicism&lt;/span&gt;. And the battles' half won.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116342948259550746?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116342948259550746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116342948259550746' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116342948259550746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116342948259550746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/11/fighting-cynicism.html' title='Fighting cynicism'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116338548135242242</id><published>2006-11-12T17:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-12T18:47:41.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One week later</title><content type='html'>Last Sunday, something happened that changed my life, and others closed to me forever. A system failed and a man died. An act of goodwill became a consequent nightmare. Too much happened in a span of 4 hours and I'm amazed how vividly I remember all of it. Unfortunately. I'm also amazed about how fate and time works together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We (usual foursome of Uttara, Diya, Nangi &amp; I) were going to Uttara's for dinner and Utts had come to pick us up with Diya. I was on the phone and couldn't go down and they came up 5 minutes later. After my phonecall we still didn't leave cos we were watching something on tv. When we finally did go down, we reached the gate and saw a man stagger, fall on his knees, fall on the road across my place. We stood at the gate for some watching, while onlookers and nieghbors rushed to him. There was so much blood all over and all of us were apprehensive as we didn't know what had happened. After some time we went forward to see if we could help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was a yound guy, jeans and tshirt face down on a pool of blood. The blood seemed to be from his upper right thigh. Someone propped him up and kept asking him what language he speaks but he just kept mumbling. Someone ran to get an auto but of course, no one is willing to take an unidentified bleeding man. After a good five minutes of no one doing anything to help, we couldn't take it anymore. Since we had Uttara's car we offered to take him to hospital. I was disgusted with humanity by then. How can you leave a man bleeding on the road and not do anything but watch and speculate ? Thats what about 20 people did for the first five minutes. Then no one would come with us to the hospital. It was just Uttara and me, and the guy in the back seat. Finally the same neighbour who was doing most of the work came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That 5 minute ride to the hospital was so .... I can't even describe it. My hand didn't leave the horn. Cars weren't moving, traffic was slow. I was also trying to call the guy's mother but as luck would have it, his battery died and his was a CDMA phone so I couldn't even change sim cards. My neighbour kept checking his pulse and said that it was faint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, hospital. Emergency room. We're refused a stretcher. It took me 5 seconds to register all that. I'm told to go in and take permission from the doctor in charge. Ok. I run in and tell the first doctor I see that we a bleeding man in our car and the guards weren't letting us in. She tells me to bring him in but at the same time someone else points out the doctor in charge and says its SHE I have to talk to. Fine. I tell her the same thing and to my surprise she starts yelling. By then Uttara had come in and from the look of her face I knew I wasn't imagining things. The doctor said that if we don't know who he is and if we are not responsible for him then there was no way they could take him in, given its a private hospital and there will be "costs" and to take him to the government hospital which was a good half an hour away. Of course, I put it down here in a more polite way than she did. I explained the deal with his mobile and said that I'm sure we could contact his mother but she still didn't listen. I asked her if she could do SOMETHING because we just couldn't leave him bleeding in the car. Still nothing. Just a lot of ranting. Fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ran outside, explained the situation to my neighbour and before we could decide what to do, another doctor came out to see what was happening. By then, I thought that his leg would have to be amputated. When the doctor said "I'm sorry but he's dead" it didn't quite hit me. I asked me make sure. Double check. He did. Same thing. He's dead. Dead. No way. From a leg wound. Bled to death. While we were argueing and begging for some help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By then, Diya and Nangi had arrived and 10 minutes later, Uttara's cousin who took charge, her brother and R had arrived. Thankfully her aunt is the Home Secretary, so the heads of police were there in no time, saving us from the hassle. But what happened ten minutes after is what I'll never forget. I'll never forget the denial. There was no way he could'v died. Consoling each other. Wiping blood off my neighbors forehead and from my hand. An ambulance driver telling us to pray. Trying not to cry. Trying to decide what to do. Trying to find a charger for the guys phone. So much to do, and all I wanted for for him to be alive. I didn;t even know him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Police, hospital statements and arrangements took about an hour. We kept shuffling around the entrance, crying and consoling. I had to go inside again and sign papers and give a statement and then I saw his body on the bed. His arms were not even on his sides. My green towels on his red and blue jeans. I couldn't even look away. It still hadn't registered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Police station. All 7 of us crammed into the Directer Generals room telling our story. Sweet juice. Sugar shock after 2 sips. After about 45 minutes we figured out where he was from etc. But nothing as to why. Enter room mate. He was shaken after being told that his room mate had died, he came in thinking that he had met with an accident. Call to his brother who came 15 minutes later. Seeing his brother cry and scream was horrible. I didn't get to see him properly as I was called in as we were leaving to sign the statements. Harish and I went in and I read the statement my neighbor had given and signed. A policeman there told me that if he had been given medical care 10 minutes prior, he MAY have lived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exit police station, enter crime scene. Back there again. It didn't help that my house was next opposite all of this. watching the police take pictures, trying to place the events together was surreal. We spoke to the brother and my heart just broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll never forget all that blood. I'll never forget how they refused to help him. It IS policy that if there is no one to take charge, private hospitals can refuse to take them in. But there is a law stating that no hospitalin India, government or private can refuse basic first aid to anyone that is brought in. And that is what this boy, just 22 years old, was denied. And it is unforgivable that he bled to death because of it. And I'm told things like this happen everyday , hundreds of time across Bangalore. But its too late, he's dead and things must move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All throughout, in the hospital, in the station, back at Uttara's, everyone kept calling us heroes and said that we were brave. That no one would've done what we did. But it all kept bouncing off us. Isn't that what anyone SHOULD do ? help someone ? Whats so brave about it. Anyway, he died. Whats the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as the week went by i realized that everyone thinks twice about things like this. Its a messy situation to get into. If not for connections, we would've been hassled beyond belief I know. And no juice. And its the aftermath that you want to avoid. The shock. The nightmares. The sleepless nights. The exhaustion. The disgust and the denial. That was our week. Random crying. No sleep. Attending university, feeling dead to the world and staying awake all night, replaying everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wondering. How can people behave the way they did that night ? What if we had left at the time we were supposed to ? What if we had gone down 2 minutes before and then become witnesses ? Why couldn't they at least put him on the ground and stop the bleeding ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when things were getting better, Thursday night, his father called me. He thanked us for what we did and asked if his son had said anything before he died. There is nothing worse than talking to an unknown father of an unknown person you tried to help. His father cried a lot. I couldn't understand much of what he said. But he was still a father. He could've easily been my father. I was shattered after that phone call. So angry with what happened. But nothing could be done. We had to move on. There was no way we could've gone on like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nangi and I were told not to stay at home for at least a week. It happened outside, we were part of the whole tragedy. Also, on a serious note, the police said that whoever that it did might think that he said something to us before dying. So it was better that we stay at Uttara's for a week. It was better in a lot of ways, all of together, having movie marathons when we couldn't sleep and being there to talk and get over this together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I'm a better person for what we did. I'm stronger and no longer ignorant. I know what to do in case something happens again. We know the law and so does everyone around us. People know about things better because of what we did. And for that, things might be better around here in the future. I just wish it didn't have to happen at the cost of someones' life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116338548135242242?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116338548135242242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116338548135242242' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116338548135242242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116338548135242242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/11/one-week-later.html' title='One week later'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116240224734103520</id><published>2006-11-01T03:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-03T07:51:52.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Taste of heaven</title><content type='html'>Got back from Gokarna yesterday. We didn't even go to Goa as planned because Gokarna was a million times better and we just couldn't LEAVE. Even after being there for a week we still didn't want to leave but ended up trudging back to Bangalore most unwillingly. One week of doing absolutely nothing .... the days just went by with us swimming, eating, reading, eating, playing cards, eating and generally doing nothing. I never knew the meaning of 'doing nothing' till I went there. We would sit at our favourite cafe in the morning and it would be sunset before we knew it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gokarna is about 5 hours before Goa and is extremely secluded and not at all touristy. There are 3 main beaches - Gokarna, Om and Kudle and there is only one proper resort, which is on Om. Everywhere else its all mud shacks right on the beach. The food is just BRILLIANT in all the cafes there, food ranging from continentel to Israeli to Italian to good 'ol Indian. I'm yet to eat better food in Bangalore !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took 12 hours by bus from Bangalore to Gokarna and by the time we arrived in Gokarna, our limbs were ... well lets not go there. We had to take a tuk tuk to the top the Kudle beach cliff since we couldn't walk the one hour to Kudle. So we instead got a ride to the top of the Kudle beach cliff and walked down to the beach which took about 20 minutes, which was really not easy since we all had clearly overpacked, as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we got to Kudle, it was just so beautiful. The beach was enormous and sea looked so inviting. But then, we were minus accomodation and minus breakfast so we walked along talking to shack owners and checking out rooms. Finally we decided to stay at Sunset cafe which had about 10 individual mud shacks and one big shack with 2 rooms and 2 attached bathrooms. The four girls took that while Anudh, the only unfortunate male, took an individual shack very happily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After breakfast started the beginning of absolutely nothing. The food was just diviiine. We just kept eating and eating. There were not too many people at Sunset cafe, only a group of 8 foriegners who were from all over and had become friends after meeting in Gokarna. There were about 7 more shack places along the whole of Kudle, with each place having about 10 rooms and a cafe as well. We made friends with a guy who ran our cafe called Ramu who became our best friend within the week and also our informer into the where to get what in Gokarna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of week passed in absolute bliss. One day we trekked over the cliff for half an hour to Om beach, which was pretty nice and then from there took a 5 minute boat trip to Paradise beach, which is a very small beach which functions only in December. The water there was brilliant and there were about 15 others, all foreign, who had come there for the day as well. According to Ramu who became our Gokarna informer, insider and provider, "normal people go to paradise and come back mad". It was funny to hear it coming from this small man who went on to explain about how some people had come back (on all sorts of drugs obviously!) and happily burnt their passports !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another afternoon was spent shopping in Gokarna town, again where we took a boat. The town was very small and very quaint. Its a temple town so lots of priests around !!! The shopping was great and cheap. Tons of beads, chillums, lamps, clothes and so much more for really cheap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We saw dolphins almost everyday around 3pm ...... The first time was when we were having lunch and there were 2 dolphins really close to shore jumping away. It was amazing to see then in groups so close to shore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than for this, all we did was read and swim and eat. Tne water was lovely in the morning so I used to wake up someone and get in around 9am and then head straight for breakfast. tne weather was brilliant and the locals even better. The locals speak Hindi and Kannada and English of course and are extremely simple. They don't really follow time and dates, just go around doing their usual work. Swimming is very safe at Kudle, and you can swim for miles. No one has ever died at Kudle except for an Israeli guy last year who had gone swimming in the night, very drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A weeks stay in Gokarna came to only around 2500/- each, and this included accomodation, boat rides and excessive eating and it is a definitely better alternative to Goa. Gokarna is definitely a place I would keep going back to !!! One suggestion would be to pack LIGHT since there is a lot of trekking and climbing involved and Kudle beach is the best beach in Gokarna to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone was sad to leave, and the boat journey was quite hilarious due to the shopping we had done !!!!! The boat was quite tilted and Diya's face was ashen till we had gotten to shore. Miss Uttara, being the princess that she is, brought a pull along suitcase to hold all her 'steff', and I don't think anyone in Gokarna had ever seen one of those being pulled along the beach !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC02955.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC02955.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC02887.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC02887.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                        Trek to Kudle beach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC03034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC03034.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                            Sunset&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC03256.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC03256.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC02897.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC02897.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                            Nuttela pancake - Rs 40/-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah Gokarna, how I miss you so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the pictures &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/iromi/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116240224734103520?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116240224734103520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116240224734103520' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116240224734103520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116240224734103520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/11/taste-of-heaven.html' title='Taste of heaven'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116135561789266098</id><published>2006-10-20T07:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-20T07:46:57.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Taste of freedom &amp; Sound of Diwali</title><content type='html'>Exams are ovvver &amp; no studying till next year ! I'm on holiday till the 6th of Nov and I think its the first time in one and a half years since I've been here that I'm actually sticking around without running back to beloved Colombo !! I'm off to Goa &amp;amp; Gokarna for 10 days next week , been looking forward to that for so long. Sun, sea, raves , sightseeing and doing absulutely nothing ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deanne is here for a couple of days ...... happy to go back to the same routine with the foursome, killing each other and doing absolutely nothing. Lots of books, movies and serials (scrubs and prison break here I cooome !!), YouTube, and then thanks to Mahangu who introduced me to it today, &lt;a href="http://latapata.com/"&gt;Latapata &lt;/a&gt;!!! I love that everything net related, blog related I know ONLY because of him and that he still tolerates my 1000 questions on the most basic of things net related !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its Diwali today and tomorrow and I'm already deaf. By evening the fireworks and they dont end till ... well ... Sunday from the way things are going . And since its such a large overpopulated firworks loving city, there is time where you don't hear fireworks. Its quite intriguing but once the deafness sets in and the mildy murdurous feelings towards your neighbors over enthusiastic child sets in ... you are no longer fascinating. I've never heard fireworks constantly for hours till I came here. Remember how it is at the stroke of midnight ? only it stops in a few minutes. Multiply that level of noise by 1000000 and you hear that for a good 12 hours straight ...... and of course to make it worse, there would be jobless buggers in front of your own house adding to the noise. And seeing the firecrackers are going dangerous close to the transformer which has sparks flying out of it on a good day, and fire coming out of it occasionally (Subha &amp;amp; Asvajit being eyewitnesses to this only in India phenomena !!!! ) doesn't help my weak heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, well ... Happy Diwali !!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116135561789266098?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116135561789266098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116135561789266098' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116135561789266098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116135561789266098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/10/taste-of-freedom-sound-of-diwali_20.html' title='Taste of freedom &amp; Sound of Diwali'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116048672130193778</id><published>2006-10-10T06:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T06:28:55.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Avial 's Nada Nada&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/7uOoC7NTxck"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/7uOoC7NTxck" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a Malayalam rock band and the first one I've listened to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song is really good even though I really don't know what the lyrics mean !! I'm told that the lyrics don't really go with the video though. This song 'Nada nada' is from Avial's album ' Sound Check'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I really liked was the video. It is really well done, and SO proffesional. After seeing a fair share of disastrous music videos over here, this was just impressive to watch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116048672130193778?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116048672130193778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116048672130193778' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116048672130193778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116048672130193778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/10/avial-s-nada-nada-this-is-malayalam.html' title=''/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116048534206278871</id><published>2006-10-10T05:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T06:04:36.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Shining</title><content type='html'>I'm sure most of you have watched &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Stanley Kubrick's 'The Shining'&lt;/span&gt;. You can see the trailer &lt;a href="http://www.sscrolls.blogspot.com/"&gt;here &lt;/a&gt;on Mirle's blog. The trailer is very creepy, especially because of the music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what I really liked (so sue me) was &lt;a href="http://angryalien.com/0504/shiningbunnies.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, a re-enactment of 'the shining' by bunnies in 30 seconds !!! Its too funny (Thanks Shikha!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116048534206278871?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116048534206278871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116048534206278871' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116048534206278871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116048534206278871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/10/shining.html' title='The Shining'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116048467053646202</id><published>2006-10-10T05:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T05:51:10.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Garba experience of 2 left feet</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;;"&gt;"Aaagghhhhh I don't knoow ..... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just join the line and just do what they do ! "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Noooooo .. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This, for me was my first Garba experience  ( and definitely not last) during Durga Pooja. This is the festival of the Bengali Hindus and goes on for nine days. Garba is where everyone comes together and dances in a huge circle all night. Everyone is dressed in either traditional outfits or just plain BLING. It was blinding to see so much bling in one area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Palace Grounds where I think the main garba in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Bangalore&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; was held. You have to wear either traditional wear or basic ethnic wear. I wore a calf length skirt since I was warned that people step on long skirts and that you could get stamped to death or something so decided to keep it safe and wear calf length ! Also wore trusty rubber slippers since it had poured the whole day but if I knew there would be so much bling around maybe I would've thought twice ! Didn't really make a difference though, we had to hand in out footwear at the entrance !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a long line to enter, something like 2km long. We stood there for around 20 minutes but after a while and some jugglery, went to the front of the line and walked in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nothing like I expected. It was this huuuuuge area, divided into 2 - the seating area where there were lots of restaurants and then there was the main area which, in size, was around the double the size of the convention center. Thousands of people were dancing in the main area, going around in circles. We didn't really know what to do but joined in anyway! We just kept doing whatever the person in front kept doing. It was so much fun despite it being the greatest challenge that my 2 left feet had ever encountered ! We were swishing skirts, side stepping, waving our arms, doing a cross between bangra and baila and all sorts of mad steps. At one point we even asked people to teach us and once we had the basic steps in place, we were on our way and managed to complete a circle without falling behind, tripping or being crushed to death. We kept dancing for a good 2  hours till we stopped for a while. I was just recovering from the flu and the cold ground did wonders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At midnight, Dandiya was supposed to begin. Dandiya is basically the same as garba, dancing in a circle only with sticks (basically the Sri Lankan lee-keli dance!!). Of course we didn'd have the sticks so went in search of the place where they were selling. After 10 minutes of walking around, we found it and Uttara being the smart one that she is, told me to push myself to the front of the line and that she'll be "right behind me". We stood there peacefully with hundreds of people for about half an hour, pretty much at the head of crowd. It was 10 bucks for a pair of sticks, so we stood there clutching our 70 bucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The minute the announced the begin of the dandiya sticks sale the whole crowd changes. There was a crowd on top of a crowd, which is the best way I can describe it. Me being the crowd at the BOTTOM, I can assure anyone it wasn't much fun. Imagine being crushed against the front of the stall, waving your money without really seeing it since there are 10 hands in front you, 4 armpits in your face and lets not talk bout my barefeet. After much profanity and general riot type behaviour on my part, the guy who was selling saw me underneath the hands and took my money and handed the money. Getting OUT of the crowd was worse than being in the crowd and I lost a good 100 hairs along with that experience. All yanked that too !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Dandiya was worth that crazy experience. It was brilliant fun and we invented our own dance since you need somewhat of routine to keep up with dandiya, unlike the running and gallping and arm waving we managed to get away with during garba. I got whacked a couple of times though but it was awesome and I'll definitely be going next year. Its too bad we couldn't take pictures since photography was not allowed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is a little  overdue .... durga pooja was about 2 weeks ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116048467053646202?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116048467053646202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116048467053646202' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116048467053646202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116048467053646202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/10/garba-experience-of-2-left-feet.html' title='Garba experience of 2 left feet'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116024331872666785</id><published>2006-10-07T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-07T10:48:38.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Little Superstar&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/GLa6dzVN_AU"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/GLa6dzVN_AU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;I love YouTube.com. Its addictive &amp; got so much stuff. Here's my current favourite which I watch at least thrice a day ! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116024331872666785?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116024331872666785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116024331872666785' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116024331872666785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116024331872666785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/10/little-superstar-i-love-youtube.html' title=''/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116023170219814039</id><published>2006-10-07T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-07T07:35:02.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Surangani</title><content type='html'>"Suraanganee suraaanganeee ! Suranganita maalu genaawaa .... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every Sri Lanka knows this baila ... we've grown up listening to it, sung it at big matches and all those other random times, and when it doubt, when a request for baila is made, 'surangani' is one of the first that pops into ones' mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came to India last year, I discovered something interesting. Indians think that surangani is an Indian song ! They know all the words to it as well. They don't know what the words mean though, and think its in one of their many Indian languages. I've heard people say its in Goan, Konkani and other random languages but majority think its a Goan song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how much you try to convince them that its in Sinhalese, they will NOT believe you. They in turn will try to convince you that  it originated from Goa or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, at some film screening, they showed a 5 minute documentry called 'America america' and the they'd rewritten the words to the jingle of surangani ... damn strange I must say ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116023170219814039?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116023170219814039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116023170219814039' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116023170219814039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116023170219814039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/10/surangani.html' title='Surangani'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-116014629257142469</id><published>2006-10-06T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-06T07:51:32.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its Baaack !</title><content type='html'>My blog disappeared  last week and I thought I'd have to get a blog all over again, for the second time. Thankfully, after some mindless fiddling around today i managed to get it back. Things are getting better in my tech-challenged world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-116014629257142469?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/116014629257142469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=116014629257142469' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116014629257142469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/116014629257142469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/10/its-baaack.html' title='Its Baaack !'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-115737750837678201</id><published>2006-09-04T06:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T06:49:24.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The many faces of Mirle</title><content type='html'>This &lt;a href="http://www.sscrolls.blogspot.com/"&gt;boy&lt;/a&gt;, he makes so many faces. He'll tell you that God is gay and that he has hands of shteel. He will also wish that your grandmother had been stoned to death while she was pregnant with your mother so that you would never have been born. And he'll say this in 3 words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC02409.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/200/DSC02409.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC02416.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/200/DSC02416.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC02413.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/200/DSC02413.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC02404.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/200/DSC02404.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC02405.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/200/DSC02405.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC02415.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/200/DSC02415.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More pictures &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/iromi/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-115737750837678201?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/115737750837678201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=115737750837678201' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115737750837678201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115737750837678201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/09/many-faces-of-mirle.html' title='The many faces of Mirle'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-115668671857198135</id><published>2006-08-27T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T06:51:59.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deanne's Graduation !</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Deanne's graduation was today. Five years of law school has come to an end. The convocation was nice, all her classmates dressed up and going up on stage one by one was great. She looked beautiful in her sari and the the black gown and the much laughed at hat. She went off stage fast so couldn't really take too many pictures !!! Nangi, Uncle J and I were the happy family at this event, beaming proudly and msging a running commentry to the mothers who are in Greece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked with her on the road, trying to figure out how to get her to the never heard of auditorium, me holding her gown and gap and sash while she tried to "blend in" with the general public at 8am, we laughed as to how ironic the situation was. Me in my jeans, unbrushed teeth and uncombed hair and her all dressed up, Nangi and Bailey fast asleep at home and no plans of getting up anytime soon. The two of us, as always, in the most strangest of situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Deanne and law school has not only been a great time for her, but for me as well. I've met the most brilliant of people and had the craziest of times there. I've lived there, i've been part of their stuff and its been brilliant. I know i'lll miss D not being in law school anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC02301.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC02301.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Proud father and daughter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC02298.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC02298.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Deanne receiving her certificate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;More pictures and the madness at home &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/iromi/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/22674066-115668671857198135?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/115668671857198135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=115668671857198135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115668671857198135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115668671857198135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/08/deannes-graduation.html' title='Deanne&apos;s Graduation !'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-115409746146275471</id><published>2006-07-28T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-28T07:37:41.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tattoo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC01700.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC01700.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC01713.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC01713.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC01714.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC01714.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC01707.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC01707.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC01722.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC01722.jpg" alt="" 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/22674066-115409746146275471?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/115409746146275471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=115409746146275471' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115409746146275471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115409746146275471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/07/tattoo.html' title='Tattoo'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-115375909458507789</id><published>2006-07-24T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-24T09:38:14.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking a picture of her .....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC01677.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC01677.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;taking a picture of me. Jithanie, she's amazingly talented. She has a mother of a camera and oodles of talent. Her &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/34273859@N00/"&gt;pictures &lt;/a&gt;are definitely worth taking a look ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/iromi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/iromi.jpg" alt="" 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/22674066-115375909458507789?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/115375909458507789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=115375909458507789' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115375909458507789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115375909458507789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/07/taking-picture-of-her.html' title='Taking a picture of her .....'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-115364278613552282</id><published>2006-07-23T01:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-23T01:19:46.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kalmunai 2005</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC03135.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC03135.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;All smiles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC03169.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC03169.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kp bonds with cow skull which Subha took back home in the end !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC03131.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC03131.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Subha communicates&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC03168.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC03168.jpg" alt="" 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/22674066-115364278613552282?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/115364278613552282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=115364278613552282' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115364278613552282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115364278613552282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/07/kalmunai-2005.html' title='Kalmunai 2005'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-115364170203891300</id><published>2006-07-22T22:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-23T01:01:42.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Favourite pics II</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC05242.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC05242.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Uttara &amp; Diya, shopping on Jew Street, Cochin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC04433.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC04433.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Amanda, contemplating whether to venture outdoors or not, Padukka&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC04451.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC04451.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The two fathers, as we know them best&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC04528.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC04528.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A bee scares Uttara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC05260.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC05260.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Antique shop in Jew Street&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/22674066-115364170203891300?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/115364170203891300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=115364170203891300' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115364170203891300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115364170203891300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/07/favourite-pics-ii.html' title='Favourite pics II'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-115239101465442797</id><published>2006-07-08T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-08T13:49:07.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Favourite pics</title><content type='html'>Some of my all time favourite pictures in no particular order&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC00526.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC00526.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nangi passed out/ resting on top of Sigiriya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC04240.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC04240.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Uttara and Rachna leading the way in the coffee estate in Chikmangalore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC02952.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC02952.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While working with the Tsunami Relief Foundation, we met so many cute kids, like this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/iroms.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/iroms.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Subha riding a bicycle in Kalmunai, chased by kids, on a hot afternoon. Not a very clear picture but a priceless one nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC02827.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC02827.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aid being brought in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC00182.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC00182.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jaffna, this was a constant reminder of what lay by the side of the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC00355.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC00355.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lovers Leap in Trinco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC00456.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC00456.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mihintale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC04202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC04202.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Belur - one of the most beautiful temples. The carvings were just stunning. There are 544 elephants carved all around at the bottom and each is unique, simply wonderful !!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-115239101465442797?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/115239101465442797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=115239101465442797' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115239101465442797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/115239101465442797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-favourite-pics.html' title='My Favourite pics'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-114493815543855718</id><published>2006-04-13T07:16:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T07:24:49.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So restless ....</title><content type='html'>The day is over and I still haven't stepped out of the house. All day was spent watching the live telecast of Rajkumar's funeral. It was terrible, watching all the rioting and fighting. 5 people died, including a policeman. I'm just surprised that more didn't die. It was quite sad at one point, anout 45 minutes before the cremation the crowds got so bad that the vehicle couldn't go ahead and the rituals couldn't be completed and one of the sons got on the jeep and pleaded to the crowd to move and he was sobbing throughout. Quite sad I must say. But more mob violence with lots of houses getting stoned and vandalized and what not. Everyone is very bored and restless waiting for things to come back to normal again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-114493815543855718?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/114493815543855718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=114493815543855718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114493815543855718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114493815543855718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/04/so-restless_114493815543855718.html' title='So restless ....'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-114493809343347407</id><published>2006-04-13T07:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T07:21:33.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So restless ....</title><content type='html'>The day is over and I still haven't stepped out of the house. All day was spent watching the live telecast of Rajkumar's funeral. It was terrible, watching all the rioting and fighting. 5 people died, including a policeman. I'm just surprised that more didn't die. It was quite sad at one point, anout 45 minutes before the cremation the crowds got so bad that the vehicle couldn't go ahead and the rituals couldn't be completed and one of the sons got on the jeep and pleaded to the crowd to move and he was sobbing throughout. Quite sad I must say. But more mob violence with lots of houses getting stoned and vandalized and what not. Everyone is very bored and restless waiting for things to come back to normal again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-114493809343347407?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/114493809343347407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=114493809343347407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114493809343347407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114493809343347407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/04/so-restless_13.html' title='So restless ....'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-114485009448464954</id><published>2006-04-12T06:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T06:55:00.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All hell broke loose ....</title><content type='html'>Today a Kannada actor names Rajkumar died in Bangalore. He was the Kannada equivalent to Amitabh Bachchan and treated like a god basically. When he was kidnapped a few years ago, all schools had shut down because the people just went mad, with stoning and rioting all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today Mr Rajkumar passes away due to cardiac arrest and Bangalore went mad. I didn't really understand the excitement when the news came in, I was only wondering if our party plans for the night would be cancelled. A little less than hour, calls were pouring in, giving in news of what areas had trouble, where people were going mad and stoning and setting fire to things. All shops were closed and the main streets cleared out so fast it wasn't even funny. People were actually climbing over the ambulance and dancing the merry devil while they were transporting the body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, on the news we watched people faint, cry over Rajkumar's body. I've never seen such frenzied madness in masses, and when I say masses I mean MASSES. And over an actor. My issue was my final exam tomorrow and I'm "supposed" to take off to Gokarna for a 4 day holiday but all plans are unclear for now :( The state government has declared a holiday and therefore my exams been postponed for sure !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is staying over at Uttara's house and her mum stocked up on booze and food as soon as she heard the news so no matter what, we'll be partying here tonight :) Its been fun though, everyone in aunty's room playing cards, scrabble and tv.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please say a prayer for me that I'll get to go on my holiday tomorrow !!!!!!!!!!! Will keep posting I guess since its not like anyone will be venturing out :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-114485009448464954?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/114485009448464954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=114485009448464954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114485009448464954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114485009448464954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/04/all-hell-broke-loose.html' title='All hell broke loose ....'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-114434825152579567</id><published>2006-04-06T11:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T11:30:51.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And then the wasps came in .....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;There were wasps in my bedroom. Thats right. Wasps. I've been seeing a couple here and there mostly in the balcony and sometimes in the kitchen but never expected them to appear in my room at 1am. Deanne was sleeping and I didn't know what to do. After an hour there were two. Around 2.30 am I saw one crawling up D's arm and when I attempted to whack it D woke up and thought I was trying to hit her. Then we both got up, armed with slippers, managed to kill them without getting stung. Then we had to sleep with the windows closed cos its not exactly the most fun activity one can engage in at the crack of dawn. By the end of it, both of us were dying of laughter. This is exactly the kind of thing that would happen to us. And it was so typical of me to whip out my camera and capture the entire ordeal. The images are not too clear though, given the fact that I stayed at a safe distance and zoomed in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/wasp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/wasp.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dead wasp. Pls note the slipper mark on the wall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/wasp2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/wasp2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wasp on my mirror. Zoomed in. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/wasp3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/wasp3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Deanne stares at the wasp on my mirror&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&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/22674066-114434825152579567?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/114434825152579567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=114434825152579567' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114434825152579567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114434825152579567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/04/and-then-wasps-came-in.html' title='And then the wasps came in .....'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-114434602261759897</id><published>2006-04-06T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T11:05:48.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Once a villager ......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Uttara - The ultimate princess. Mary Sunshine, party animal, crackpot, brat. She tries hard not to be a social butterfly. She's never too cool for anything, social graces just fail her in the most high funda places. She'll talk to a waitor at 5 star hotel in a chipmunk voice. She's the girl who less than an year ago would drive through bad Bangalore traffic while whimpering "please let me go uncle i'm just girl, please let me turn". But now the Delhi upbringing of Utts has taken over. Now its "get out of my way you F***ing moron let me turn" ! But you gotta love her. Life would be so dull without her :)But sometimes, all that coolness and hard work just fails. This is her, in public, complaining of some insect bite.&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;font-family:georgia;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/utts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/utts.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/utts2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/utts2.jpg" alt="" 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/22674066-114434602261759897?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/114434602261759897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=114434602261759897' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114434602261759897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114434602261759897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/04/once-villager.html' title='Once a villager ......'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-114426249488006020</id><published>2006-04-05T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T11:41:34.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>Exams started today. Not too thrilled about my first paper but anyway its over and done with. Next paper on Monday and goes on till Thursday and then I take off to Gokarna ( and hopefully a day trip to Goa) with Deanne, Diya, Deanne's boyfriend Rishab and Ayesha, who is coming for a holiday to Bangalore for a week (hopefully longer!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Found a lovely apartment finally. After seeing exactly 34 apartments, I'm now an expert of Koramangala - from the slums to the posh neighborhoods. I've been to places I never thought existed in this side of town. I've gone through 150 Admags and met countless number of people who obviously did NOT speak English but had apartments for rent. I figured that Kannadigas will say "yes" to everything when they don't speak English. Anyways, to cut a long story short, found a very nice 2 bedroom apartment overlooking a park. Its painted purple and orange outside and blue and yellow on the inside. Yes, its as weird as it gets. Everyone is very excited and waiting for exams to finish to start moving in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Discovered something more exciting - blog backups !!!!! I vaguely remember backing up my posts from my previous blog by mailing them to my gmail. After sifting through a whole bunch of stuff, I found a bunch of posts. Very exciting even though all my posts aren't there but something is better than nothing I guess. When I have more time, I'll link up my old posts :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-114426249488006020?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/114426249488006020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=114426249488006020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114426249488006020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114426249488006020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/04/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-114375094337581797</id><published>2006-03-30T10:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T12:35:46.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>God's Own Country</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was in Cochin for 3 days with Diya &amp; Uttara. It was a great trip, full of madness and laughter. I loved Cochin, it is uncanny how much the whole place resembles Sri Lanka. From the food to the people to the architecture itself, it was as if I had taken a 12 hour bus to Sri Lanka. Everyone had told me that Sri Lanka and Kerala are very similar, but I never believed it other than the fact that both places had high suicide and literacy rates :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The Journey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went by bus both ways. Night bus, 12 hours. The ride to Cochin was good, coming back was hell because the AC had broken and everyone fussed and buses had to be changed. The man who sat in front of me broke my knees and the seat paralysed me but I saved myself by switching seats at 3am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The Family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We stayed with Uttara's aunt and her family. Aunty Hema, Uncle Mahesh and their kids Devika and Krithi live in an awesome penthouse on the 12th floor of a huge apartment complex overlooking the backwaters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC05050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC05050.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The view or "voo" from the balcony&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a pool where we swam everyday. Sunday night was spent at Uttara's grandparents home. That was fun because her grandparents are just the sweetest and we all slept in one room and played cards and talked all night. Monday night was at Aunty Hema's and again we all piled into one room and once Devika and Kitty had gone to sleep, we talked all night with aunty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The Beach&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC05027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/200/DSC05027.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally got to dip my feet in the ocean again. We went to a resort on Sunday. I spent a long time reading on a hammock on the beach. It was so peaceful and a lot of fun. After lunch we headed back to Aunty Hema's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Monday morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After a lazy breakfast, Diya and I went for a walk. Somehow, we clearly stood out as we walked on the road. Cochin in a very sleepy and laid back sea town. We were obviously not good Mallu (people in Kerala are called Malayali's, therefore reffered to as Mallu's) girls fom Cochin since we were walkin around in jeans and tshirts. There was also no coke available anywhere. Every shop offered us a fruit drink as an alternative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Monday afternoon - hit the town&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 3 of us took a bus to Marine Drive in the afternoon. The buses in Cochin are really cute. They're all red and have names written across in front. We travelled by 'Angel' and I saw 'Heaven', 'Christ', and many more. We got off at Marine Drive and walked the entire area for around 2 hours. We went into shops, walked in parks, walked on the walkway overlooking the sea. I discovered that Mallu's can't spell to save their lives but it all added to the charm of the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC05113.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC05113.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We hired a boat just for us for 2 hours. It took us all around and we had a good time, just us, sailing away. We saw the Cochin shipyard, the Bolghatty Palace ( a lovely hotel on a separate island), the Chinese fishing nets ( very cool fishing nets of a different sort) and basically all around Cochin. The best was seeing the Queen Elizabeth 2, the second largest passenger ship in the world. It had stopped over in Cochin that and seeing it a few metres away was just unbelievable. Rich people inside waved at us and those who were taking excursions took pictures of us. We tried spotting anyone famous but had no luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC05169.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC05169.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC05221.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC05221.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After the boat ride we pigged out on Chinese food and ice cream and went back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Tuesday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We first went to Jew Town. It was a fascinating experience, walking down Jew Street and going into the synagogue. Jew Street has loads of antique shops which sell a lot of stuff from the old Jewish houses which are no more. So one can find lamps, furniture, door knobs and what not. We fell in love with the place and walked around for hours, picking up stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC05263.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC05263.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Paradesi synagogue was built in 1568 by the decendants of the Spanish, Dutch and other European Jews. Inside, there are more than 1500 floor tiles and no 2 tiles are similar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC05256.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC05256.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had lunch in a quaint cafe and afterwards went to Fort Cochin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In Fort Cochin we roamed around in the boutiques behind the chinese fishing nets. There were lots of places to eat, sea food of course, plus shops selling trinkets and souveniers. After walking around, we settled down to demolish a plate of tiger prawns and french fries. We walked towards the fishing nets and made friends with the fishermen who told us that you can see dolphins in the morning and then proceeded to get Diya and I to pull fishing nets with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/DSC05279.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/DSC05279.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fishing nets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Fort Cochin in just so interesting, full of architecture and history. There was a street names 'Burgher Street' which was very cute and a cafe named the 'Teapot'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our bus home was at 9pm and it was Devika's star birthday that day so before we left we all went to cafe called Cocoa Tree and cut a cake. It was a nice way to end that perfect holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Cochin Rocks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cochin is a lovely place. And one must travel further into Kerala to see other places like Kovalam and maybe take a houseboat down the backwaters. The highest literacy rate in India is in Kerala where people are very pro-active and are good at what they do. They may not be very industrious but they take pride in what they do best. There has not been too much industrial growth as such there but people's lifestyles have certainly got better. Its evident enough from the vehicles you see on the road. Compared to Bangalore, the number of expensive vehicles like Ford, Skoda, Honda, Toyota are more and you see fewer Marutis and Santros. Tourism is a booming industry there and everyone prides themselves in being a part of it. I'm told that there are no major tourism related problems as everyone tries to keep it 'problem free' as it is an important industry for the people. The people in Kerala do not crib and do nothing, they take action whenever it is needed, even going to such an extent that they will get roads closed and go on city wide strikes. Smoking in public is also not allowed and is a rule that is strictly enforced. It was definitely a refreshing change from Banglore where everyone is a chain smoker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kerala is definitely one place i'll be visiting over and over again. All my pics can be seen &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21031968@N00/sets/72057594094444306/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-114375094337581797?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/114375094337581797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=114375094337581797' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114375094337581797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114375094337581797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/03/gods-own-country.html' title='God&apos;s Own Country'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-114374113494430495</id><published>2006-03-30T09:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T09:52:15.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2 down, 4 to go</title><content type='html'>Can't believe that my first year at college is over. 2 semesters down, exams next week. In June I'll be starting my 2nd year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first came here I was so upset. I was upset about leaving my family and all my friends behind. Saying goodbye was the worst. The first few weeks here I would burst into tears at even the thought of someone back home. Thankfully, I had a lot of friends here since I had spent a month in Bangalore in 2004. My oldest friend, one of my best friends, Deanne, is at the National Law School here so having her around helped. Her friends were my friends and the sister of one of Deanne's friends was in my uni and soon we became good friends and I survived the first few months of uni life thanks to her. Uttara and her mother became 2 of favourite people and I moved in with Uttara's best friend Rachna, into a brilliant 2 bedroom apartment in the heart of the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the months went by, I made friends in class despite my initial branding of my 90+ class as "not my type". I became friends with Diya, one my absolute favourite people in the world and through her I met all my other friends in class and in other classes. Looking back now, I don't know what I would've done without all these people. To think that I didn't even know them prior to June 2005 is unbelievable. We're a big group of about 10 and its always a good time when we're together, whether it be in class or outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have changed a lot since I came. For the better I think but I'm guessing there might be some who might beg to differ. I've not done a lot of things I would've liked to but I have done a lot of things I never thought I would. I've got harder I know, I'm not the naive sap I used to be. I guess once you're on your own, its all about self preservation. I'm constantly around a diverse group of people, which has made me less judgemental and more "live and let live type". I've also discovered a lot of things about me and about others. I've travelled, seen a bit of this wondeful country and it has left me craving for more, to see it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being here hasn't really given me a clear view of what I want to do or be in a few years time. If at all, I'm more confused as to what I want in life. But I take it as a good thing, I have 2 more years to decide. I'm truly happy with my new life and I'm just glad that I'm happy whether I'm in Sri Lanka or in Bangalore. My heart belongs to both places and I'm equally happy in both. It is weird sometimes to know that I'm no longer part of everything that happens back home and that my oldest friends in SL don't know my new friends. But its all part of this crazy life  I guess. There's never a dull moment here and I wouldn't give up my time here for anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I left in June, someone very dear told me that I should bloom where I'm rooted. And thats exactly what I did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22674066-114374113494430495?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/114374113494430495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=114374113494430495' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114374113494430495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114374113494430495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/03/2-down-4-to-go.html' title='2 down, 4 to go'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-114366942572141678</id><published>2006-03-29T13:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T13:57:05.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cochin</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Got back from Cochin this morning and slept the whole day. I went to Cochin Saturday night with Diya and Uttara and had a brilliant 3 days. All the pictures and tales from my journey in "gods own country" will be posted soon. Exams next week, but very impatient to start blogging about it so here's a sneak peak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/cochin1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/cochin1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sailing through the backwaters of Cochin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/cochin3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/cochin3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Di &amp; Utts on Jew Street&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/cochin2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/cochin2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chinese fishing nets - Fort Cochin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/cochin4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/cochin4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Inside an antique shop on Jew Street&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/1600/cochin5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5108/2310/320/cochin5.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Di and I pulling chinese fishing nets&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/22674066-114366942572141678?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/114366942572141678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=114366942572141678' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114366942572141678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114366942572141678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/03/cochin.html' title='Cochin'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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-22674066.post-114305323232718940</id><published>2006-03-22T10:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T12:09:14.330-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holi shit !!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;Ever had nightmares of a green faces monster chasing after you ? I did when I was a kid. Imagine my horror when I had that nightmare come to life, only there were many monsters and their faces were not just green. There were purple, pink, green, silver monsters all over, running after me trying to make me look like one of them. And in less than 5 minutes I DID look like one of them and ended up chasing after some unfortunate individual myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt; This was my first Holi. Its one of the most fun and crazy Indian traditions I've encountered so far. Holi is the festival of colours and for more information on Holi, click &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);" href="http://www.answers.com/topic/holi?method=22"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt; My first Holi was celebrated at Uttara's, who threw a Holi party so that I could see what it was all about. The buildup to Holi was a blast because I kept seeing colourful people the entire day. On the road, in shops, everywhere. And it wasn't restricted to any age or section in society. This day everyone seemed to go mad, everyone's inner child came dashing out and running after some peron with colour. The streets were full of colour, mostly dark pink I noticed. Not even the dogs were spared, many of them were an array of colours for a long time. I got used to people who were silver from head to toe crossing the road. I loved the abandon with which people played Holi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;We dressed in our oldest clothes and went outside. In less than a minute, the colour powders were out and were being thrown all over. Water was filled into buckets and water guns and everyone was soaking wet. For a good 2 hours, all we did was run around throwing colour at everyone and having a blast. I got a good amount of colour in my mouth since I was screaming my head off half the time and trust me, its damn scary to see yourself spit pink and green and purple. Everyone looked maaaaaaad and as time passed, things just got crazier. The tube of silver was brought and everyone got something written on their back. My favourite was Daddy's, which said 'Blobby'. When we finished all the colour we just held our heads over buckets and held the hose. I can't remember the last time I had such crazy crazy fun. There was so much screeching, cursing, running and madness involved. So many people were dunked into colourful puddles of water. Innocent bystanders (P &amp; V!!!) had to run away so many times. A certain VERY GREEN individual kept screaming "Arrrgghhh noooo I have a date tomorrow !!!!!!". Di looked fabulous with her silver eyebrows and mustache. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt; When we finally finished, we took time to see the extent of our damage. Radhika and Rohit were by far the funniest sincem they were wearing white. Uttara's driver gave us soap and coconut husks and after using them for a little while, I realized that the effort was futile. The colour was NOT coming off. Everyone told me that after Holi, everyone is colourful for at least a week but I didn't really believe them. They weren't kidding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt; It took me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;2 &lt;/span&gt;hours to get the colour off. My arms were scraped all over. My toes and hands felt numb. I had to shampoo my hair FOUR times and each time it was green. Lets not even talk about how dry it was the next day. But it was worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One week later, my nails are still slightly colourful, my hair is now a light green, the stray dogs are still pink. Everyone I see still has a bit of Holi on them, whether it be person, road, wall, elbow or animal. Coverage of Holi from all over India was so entertaining, especially from the North, where they do it best. There was so many socialite Holi parties all over the papers and I loved how you couldn't really distinguish them from what I saw on the road. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt; So that was my first Holi, and definitely NOT my last. For as long as I can, I will celebrate Holi with all these mad Indians :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt; Click &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21031968@N00/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to see how crazy Holi was. Not all my pictures are up though, only a few selected few.&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/22674066-114305323232718940?l=iromi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/feeds/114305323232718940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22674066&amp;postID=114305323232718940' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114305323232718940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22674066/posts/default/114305323232718940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iromi.blogspot.com/2006/03/holi-shit.html' title='Holi shit !!!'/><author><name>Iromi</name><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></feed>
