<?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-148466897984863651</id><updated>2011-07-28T19:02:26.918-07:00</updated><category term='Sejal'/><category term='PEOPLE WHO CARE'/><title type='text'>SNEHAL-------Life is in Believing</title><subtitle type='html'>Magic is believing in yourself, if you can do that, you can make anything happen.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-5585277876346044992</id><published>2010-08-17T04:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T15:52:20.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From Baby to Toddler</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My little Sejal is growing up fast.  She has mastered the art of climbing stairs and refuses if someone tries to pick her up while climbing stairs. She wants to climb all the time and the minute we dont have our eyes on her, she is on the stairs. now we do have the stair gate but Daddy has not got any time to install it. So for now Sejal is keeping me on my toes for sure:) For last two days she is trying to walk, she stands and then she loses balance and falls on the floor, she gets up  immediately and resumes the act again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Her Food habits have changed recently. She  wants a bite from our plates almost always. Wants to feed herself and  many times refuses to let me feed her . Obviously this behavior is way  too annoying for me cos the area around her highchair gets very messy  and the time taken to feed her increases multifold. This is one new  habit that she has probably picked up at her nursery. She is happy to  share her food with the parents and tries to feed her daddy or me before  she puts it in her mouth. &lt;/span&gt;Its cute but I have to keep cleaning all the time:(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Talking  is another new acheivement these days. She has mastered word Daddy. Manoj gets so pleased when she says that. You have to see his face to believe me! She says Attya with a rhythm and then everything from dugdag----dugd to aaaaai----Sejal can also recognise light, if we ask her to show light, she looks up and points at the light. now her daddy got too excited about it and tried teaching her difference between man-made light and natural light------------yes you guessed it right sejal rescued herself and came to mE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Stay tuned for more of Sejal's adventures.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snehal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-5585277876346044992?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/5585277876346044992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2010/08/from-baby-to-toddler.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/5585277876346044992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/5585277876346044992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2010/08/from-baby-to-toddler.html' title='From Baby to Toddler'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-69847577379452707</id><published>2010-05-25T11:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T11:25:54.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter to my dear Sejal :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="display: block;"&gt;Last few days been really  difficult as Sejal is teething. So I am not able to do anything  but she is much better today. So i thought of  sitting down and writing this first letter to her while she is fast  asleep in her little cot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin: 0pt 0pt 0pt 0.8ex; border-left: 1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204); padding-left: 1ex;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="display: block;"&gt; On  Mother's Day last month I came across a  few articles relating to the very  subject. My favourite was a  collection of letters written by three or  four famous people to their  daughters offering help and advice for their later  life (all the  daughters were young and this letter was to be given to  them at the age  of 21). And it got me thinking about what I would write  in a letter to  my daughter. This is what I came up with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;To  my  darling Sejal,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm going to start this letter with  telling you how much I love you and adore you. I would die for you. I   really would. I never understood how that felt until the first moment I   saw you in pain. You were three day old and the nurse was perfoming  routine 'heel-prick' test which involved extracting  four or five  drops of blood from your heel. Your dad held you in his arm and I  couldnt even be in the same room. You were hysterical with  pain and  shock, not understanding why anyone could hurt you. And in  that  moment, as I watched your rigid body and your contorted face I felt  it.  I still feel it now and every day. Now you are teething and  you are in pain and  I feel it. Only if i could, i would, take the pain  away. I rang your both grandmothers today telling them how helpless I  feel to see you in so much of pain and not able to do anything. How can I explain anyone how I feel your pain when  you come running towards  the door when i come back from work and when you put your arms around my  neck  and let me take in your irresistible scent. I feel it when you  share  your excitement with me, telling me something in your baby  language,,,,dadadada,,,,,&lt;wbr&gt;tugadh tugadha tugadha. I would  die for  you in  a heartbeat my sweetheart, and this is the truth. - the love I  feel  for you will always be there - no matter what you do, or who you  are.  Because here is another little note for you - I just want you to be   happy. Truly. Of course I want you to be healthy too, and adored by all   who meet you, and kind and successful and loving. But most of all I  want  you to be happy with whatever it is you choose to do.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="im"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;So    here's my advice to you - and I hope it helps somewhat towards your   path of happiness as you grow older and wiser.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;div class="im"&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Try  not to fixate on the future  so much that you don't enjoy the present.  The journey itself can be so  much more rewarding than the destination.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Always     treat people the way in which you would like to be treated. Be kind to   everyone you meet. And if they are not kind back, then don't think it  is  your fault. Maybe they're having a bad day.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Don't   be afraid to follow your dreams, whatever they may be. Only you know   what really makes you tick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Don't  be afraid to  trust people - but only if you understand that sometimes  the people  you trust can let you down.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Believe that you  are  capable of doing anything that you want. Don't be scared of trying.  If  at first you don't succeed, then try and try again. You can and you   will do it.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Always be yourself - whoever that  may  be. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Try not to get excessively angry about  things -  nothing is that important. And if you realise half-way through  an  argument that you are wrong, then have the courage to back down. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Never     forget that me and your daddy will &lt;b&gt;always&lt;/b&gt; love you no  matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;div class="im"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Never  bite your  fingernails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Study   hard, specially chemistry and maths.( mummy was very bad with them)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Eat your  vegetables and go to gym .&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Don't  shave your legs -  wax them.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;Never go to bed on an  argument or with  an untidy kitchen.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Always  listen  to your Mummy and do exactly what she says. She is the best:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="im"&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And if at any point you forget this  advice, then   remember just one thing. I will always be here for you.  If someone  hurts you, I will be here for you. If  you are scared or lonely or  panicked, I will be here. Never ever forget  that.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Your  Mummy&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-69847577379452707?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/69847577379452707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2010/05/letter-to-my-dear-sejal.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/69847577379452707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/69847577379452707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2010/05/letter-to-my-dear-sejal.html' title='Letter to my dear Sejal :)'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-4248446744001389793</id><published>2010-05-17T04:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T04:28:44.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What are we missing???</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="post-header"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;  I was away from blogging for so long but I dont seem to get much time now a days to sit and write but I do have this chain of thought early in the morning but again I am too lazy to get up and write:(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I read the following article, an email forward, I thought I  should share it.  I don’t know if it is a true story as claimed, but  then, it could be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Washington, DC, Metro Station, on a cold  January morning in 2007. The man with a violin played six Bach pieces  for about 45 minutes. During that time approximately 2 thousand people  went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3  minutes, a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He  slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds, and then hurried to meet  his schedule.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 minutes later:&lt;br /&gt;The violinist received  his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without  stopping, continued to walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 minutes:&lt;br /&gt;A young man leaned  against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started  to walk again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 minutes:&lt;br /&gt;A 3-year-old boy stopped, but his  mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the  violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to  walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several  other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children  to move on quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45 minutes:&lt;br /&gt;The musician played  continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while.  About 20 gave money, but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man  collected a total of $32.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 hour:&lt;br /&gt;He finished playing and  silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any  recognition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell,  one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most  intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars.  Two days before, Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the  seats averaged $100.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing  incognito in the Metro Station was organized by the Washington Post as  part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's  priorities. The questions raised: &lt;em&gt;in a commonplace environment at an  inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it?  Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One  possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we  do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in  the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of  the most beautiful instruments ever made.... &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;How many other  things are we missing?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-4248446744001389793?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/4248446744001389793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-are-we-missing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/4248446744001389793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/4248446744001389793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-are-we-missing.html' title='What are we missing???'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-5005262119857347448</id><published>2010-01-04T04:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T04:55:26.450-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sejal'/><title type='text'>My Sejal......</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/mdhirde/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/mdhirde/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.png" alt="" /&gt;It is amazing how soon you forget things .. The first time I saw and held my lil’ one is still fresh in my memory but everything else is a haze. Right, trying to remember now..the first memory apparently goes back to very long nights when we used to struggle to remain awake :D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;During the first three months there was not a single hour on the clock that we didn’t see. Some days she would wake up at midnight, some days at 1pm some days at 2pm and so on. Getting to a routine was a far-cry. I tried reading all the books I could, Manoj kept going on internet wanting to find out how to put Sejal in a shedule. Then Sejal had this typical time of 9 pm where she use to start crying without any apparent reason!!! It took her the first few days to get adjusted to the light and all the surroundings which were obviously quite different when she was in the darkness of the womb. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Meanwhile, friends and family poured in their wishes and enquiries in every possible mode. Some called, some sent messages over Orkut and Facebook, some visited and some sent cards and gifts by mail. We had organised a small naming ceremony  party on the 28&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; day which went well in spite of my clumsiness and last minute preparation.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="t" class="km" role="chatMessage" live="assertive"&gt;&lt;div class="kk"&gt;&lt;span class="kn" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span dir="ltr" id=":xv"&gt;Manoj's Parents were of great help during first 8 weeks after SEJAL was born but they had to go back to India as they had only 3 months visiting visa. They were quite sad to leave their new found love. After they left and Manoj had to go with them to India, I was all alone for 5 days with 8 weeks old Sejal which was not at all easy with her 9pm tantrum. However I had Julie Benson, Danise Walsh , Arundhati Tekale's Help and guidance. Julie use to come home every day to give me company at night, Denise told us all about Roller&amp;amp;coaster website and gave all the books on parenting. Arundhati almost called me every morning to enquire about the day.Thank you Guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;Sejal was very quiet in her initial days, she would just lie down and smile at us. People suggested to be careful as soon as she entered her 3&lt;sup&gt;rd&lt;/sup&gt; month, they said she could start rolling over anytime now. So, our cautions rose and we started putting pillows beside her every time she was on the family bed and kept a watchful eye on her almost all the time. She would lift her legs high up in the air and wiggle them but that’s about it. It was great fun to watch her, she was super-attracted to the lights, wherever we went she would choose a favourite light on the ceiling and kept staring at it. It was not just the lights but anything which came into focus for those lil’ eyes, she would stare at them for quite a long time.. &lt;/o:p&gt;Last night she kept playing with her Dad...&lt;o:p&gt;It is amazing to see how the lil’ life starts to take in all the surroundings..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Regards,&lt;br /&gt;Snehal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-5005262119857347448?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/5005262119857347448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-sejal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/5005262119857347448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/5005262119857347448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-sejal.html' title='My Sejal......'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-8350487875395697923</id><published>2009-12-25T12:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T14:52:15.427-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye Bye 2009 :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;em  style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Year 2009 is in it's final laps and  I want to say goodbye to this very special year with this note...&lt;br /&gt;This year made me glad and sad, sensitive and stone-hearted, attached and detached, all in the same year. It discovered a new side of me that I never knew of... it taught me to &lt;strong&gt;truly&lt;/strong&gt; let go. Some people think&lt;strong&gt; Letting Go&lt;/strong&gt; means distancing from people, cursing them and staying angry...but Letting Go doesn't mean that. &lt;strong&gt;Letting Go basically means being able to smile even as you detach from things and people that crush your spirit...it also means keeping no grudges and staying in peace, even when you have to live without what you once craved for.&lt;/strong&gt; Slowly I'm becoming good at being able to let go of things that I badly went after before, and still be content. I've learnt to &lt;strong&gt;let it go,&lt;/strong&gt; thanks to 2009!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;here's wishing you all a very&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy New Year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;May 2010 bring your dreams a step closer to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep smiling! Take care, be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snehal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-8350487875395697923?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/8350487875395697923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/12/bye-bye-2009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/8350487875395697923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/8350487875395697923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/12/bye-bye-2009.html' title='Bye Bye 2009 :)'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-1017748003689956532</id><published>2009-12-23T09:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T09:49:41.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Life"- stop trying to understand it..just live it..and love it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-Qz8DdADtg8/Sc_U6ZjjFKI/AAAAAAAAAKg/lOgTcyrGFis/s1600-h/image001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318703784705332386" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 270px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-Qz8DdADtg8/Sc_U6ZjjFKI/AAAAAAAAAKg/lOgTcyrGFis/s400/image001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girl in the picture is Katie Kirkpatrick, she is 21 . Next to her, her fiancé, Nick, 23. The picture was taken shortly before their wedding ceremony, held on January 11, 2005 in the US . Katie has terminal cancer and spend hours a day receiving medication. In the picture, Nick is waiting for her on one of the many sessions of chemo to end. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318703633435246882" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 267px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Qz8DdADtg8/Sc_UxmB8wSI/AAAAAAAAAKY/yKwGE2_4QKA/s400/image002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In spite of all the pain, organ failures, and morphine shots, Katie is going along with her wedding and took care of every detail. The dress had to be adjusted a few times due to her constant weight loss &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318703413639478098" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 267px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Qz8DdADtg8/Sc_UkzOje1I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/KX3oQyGnL0Y/s400/image003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;An unusual accessory at the party was the oxygen tube that Katie used throughout the ceremony and reception as well. The other couple in the picture are Nick's parents. Excited to see their son marrying his high school sweetheart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318703169270047346" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 267px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-Qz8DdADtg8/Sc_UWk4V4nI/AAAAAAAAAKI/5cu4TYWMDyM/s400/image004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Katie, in her wheelchair with the oxygen tube , listening to a song from her husband and friends &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318702362717898594" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 266px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Qz8DdADtg8/Sc_TnoPUx2I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/RGXSzATYy6s/s400/image005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the reception, katie had to take a few rests. The pain did not allow her to stand for long periods &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318701850483737538" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 267px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-Qz8DdADtg8/Sc_TJ0BLw8I/AAAAAAAAAJw/n7HY5BioQb4/s400/image006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie died five days after her wedding day. Watching a woman so ill and weak getting married and with a smile on her face makes us think..... Happiness is reachable, no matter how long it lasts .&lt;br /&gt;We should stop making our and others lives complicated and should live and let others live:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;With love,&lt;br /&gt;Snehal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;span class="post-author vcard"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-1017748003689956532?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/1017748003689956532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/12/life-stop-trying-to-understand-itjust.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/1017748003689956532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/1017748003689956532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/12/life-stop-trying-to-understand-itjust.html' title='&quot;Life&quot;- stop trying to understand it..just live it..and love it.'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-Qz8DdADtg8/Sc_U6ZjjFKI/AAAAAAAAAKg/lOgTcyrGFis/s72-c/image001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-2170147661394670006</id><published>2009-12-09T09:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T12:07:36.661-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am in love with iPod</title><content type='html'>I have fallen in love with the iPod. No, I am not listening to music at all. I can't, I find that complete waste of time and it also gives me headache. Ever since Sejal arrived, I was missing my books and my reading. I just wasn't getting time to go to library...yes manoj, I know i have car and i know to drive but its such a big effort to take Sejal out and then car-seat and then to make sure that she doesn't cry in the library. So thanks to my Dublin county council library who gave me free membership to audio-books. Yes, I am the member for last 4 years now!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I have the books in my own comfort now. While making chapaties, walking or even cleaning the house! God bless the technology!! My husband things I’m nuts but he also believes it’s just a phase. The iPod is his, you see!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just started reading.........ahhh sorry.... listening to, and this is while cooking curry, &lt;em&gt;A suitable Boy.&lt;/em&gt; I had no desire to read or buy this book until a friend recommended it . I like Vikram Seth  and I went ahead and downloaded the book from the library. I completed the book in mere 4 hours. 2 hours in the morning and then 2 hours when sejal was fast asleep. I did like the book. I did read Vikram Seth's The Golden Gate 2 years ago and I liked his style of writing and I must say yet again he has not disappointed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I started listening to, &lt;em&gt;The Devil Wore Prada&lt;/em&gt;. I had no desire to read or buy this book until I bumped into a trailer of the movie on Sky. I like Meryl Streep so I went ahead downloaded the book. So far I’ve finished maybe up to an hour and I can’t say it’s doing much for me. If I was reading this book, I’d be skipping pages. Some of the stuff is painfully bad and the writer uses the word “adult brain” about a million times in one hour. So maybe Meryl Streep isn’t being too smart taking on such a role; but she’s Meryl Streep, I guess she can do what she wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still its not the same thing as taking that cup of tea, seating by the window and reading a novel. Ahh I missed those days!! But At the moment i am still loving my iPod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers to technology,&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Snehal&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-2170147661394670006?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/2170147661394670006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-am-in-love-with-ipod.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/2170147661394670006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/2170147661394670006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-am-in-love-with-ipod.html' title='I am in love with iPod'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-2389598622548498545</id><published>2009-12-01T02:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T02:46:49.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>nice Poem</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZxZumcxxb-0/SXPmlx8kjRI/AAAAAAAAARM/2V1EdxQMAOc/s1600-h/2086956400_36f8560f40.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZxZumcxxb-0/SXPmlx8kjRI/AAAAAAAAARM/2V1EdxQMAOc/s200/2086956400_36f8560f40.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292827523827404050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A poem by an African kid:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When I born, I black&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When I grow up, I black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When I go in sun, I black&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When I scared, I black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When I sick, I black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;And when I die, I still black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;And you white fellow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When you born, you pink&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When you grow up, you white&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When you go in sun, you red&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When you cold, you blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When you scared, you yellow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;When you sick, you green&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;And when you die, you grey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 20px; text-align: left;" align="center"&gt;&lt;strong style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;&lt;em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;And you’re calling me coloured???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/148466897984863651-2389598622548498545?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/2389598622548498545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/12/nice-poem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/2389598622548498545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/2389598622548498545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/12/nice-poem.html' title='nice Poem'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZxZumcxxb-0/SXPmlx8kjRI/AAAAAAAAARM/2V1EdxQMAOc/s72-c/2086956400_36f8560f40.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-2302326028889844298</id><published>2009-07-02T14:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T15:04:25.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am missing India</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UMdv-1Zps00/RfphmTrZRFI/AAAAAAAAADI/JCNBV_u7fPc/s1600-h/dosa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042450043539899474" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UMdv-1Zps00/RfphmTrZRFI/AAAAAAAAADI/JCNBV_u7fPc/s320/dosa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mostly, I go through life without missing India. It's been 4 years now since I moved to Ireland. And I am missing those tiny little details of india....The combination of smell of tea from tapari and rain...oh I can still smell it...Myself and my friend use to go to this tapri after days hardwork and one sip of that tea and our full days triedness use to disappear........ahhh those were the days...&lt;br /&gt;If I felt like a dosa, all I needed to do was walk down to Shivsagar. If I felt like samosas, I went down to Rangoli. If I felt like having Mandeli or real nice prowns curry and  bhakri, we went to Sayba. Everything was just a five-minute walk away. If I felt like watching a Hindi movie or marathi , I could watch the latest one in a theatre or pick up an obscure DVD from one of the many DVD stores. And Its been almost 3 months eversince Mee shivaji raje bolatoy movie and I have not watched it......:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But since I moved to Ireland , there's a hole in my heart, a hole as big as a good samosa. I miss the food, people and hot sun! In Ireland, most of the Indian restaurants are managed by Bangaladshi and the food is just not that Indian, that...good. I'm sure it has nothing to do with people being from Bangladesh, it's just that the quality of the Indian food in Dublin sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss India, a lot. I watch Hindi/marathi movie songs on YouTube, buy movies off of eBay, and read Rediff.com almost every day. Dublin is so extremely calm that it makes me want to go back to India and indulge in the diversity there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UMdv-1Zps00/RfphsDrZRGI/AAAAAAAAADQ/qDuS_ss2CfQ/s1600-h/samosa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042450142324147298" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UMdv-1Zps00/RfphsDrZRGI/AAAAAAAAADQ/qDuS_ss2CfQ/s320/samosa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being an immigrant is a strange thing; you become really good at adjusting to new places and not missing the places you leave behind. But I can't shake off the taste of a good samosa, a well made fish curry, or dosa with coconut chutney from road side, no matter how well adjusted I am in the place where I live. As you can see, what I really miss is the food, and I torture myself by writing about delicious Indian food. Food is life and Indian food is perfection (depending, of course, upon who makes it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I am off to sleep now....and i am sure i am going to dream about these samosa's tonight..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Snehal&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-2302326028889844298?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/2302326028889844298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-am-missing-india.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/2302326028889844298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/2302326028889844298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-am-missing-india.html' title='I am missing India'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UMdv-1Zps00/RfphmTrZRFI/AAAAAAAAADI/JCNBV_u7fPc/s72-c/dosa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-4833136490090167031</id><published>2009-06-28T17:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T17:31:04.622-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CONFUSED!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Lot of times, the people who you think loved you the most prove by their actions that their priorities are different, with you being in the lowest rung of their priority ladder. They cry out from rooftops that they love you, would do anything to keep you happy and promise you the universe, but when it comes to the part where they “act” upon these, they are shaky. They try to convince you that they have something else/ someone else that needs attention; if that doesn’t work out, they say, “You would understand my position if you really loved me” – thereby putting the blame on you; if that doesn’t work out, they try giving you the silent treatment. Same thing is been happening in my case. There is this person who I love most in my life and this person claims that he loves me with his whole heart but his priority seems to be different.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Putting all that in the back burner, I have to just go back to work tomorrow morning after a week of sick leave and there is so much more to catch up on and to continue from where I left it. The leave I took has made me feel a lot detached to everyone; made me see everything from a distance; analyze people and events without any sense of belonging; to be nonchalant and most of all, not loving anyone and thats why, I think it is so important for people like me to work 365 days and not to take any bed rest unless unconscious. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Lately, I have had so many thoughts and every time I sit and think about something, I tell to myself that I'd capture the thought-train and post it on my blog; but later when I sit to write a post, words fail me. I forget what I had thought or what triggered the thoughts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I know this post has become a lot senti and many people who know me/read my blog regularly might me wondering what is wrong with me or if I have gone nuts (I know most of you think that already!) or if something tragic has happened to me. I really don’t know what is wrong with me people. May be I am thinking too much.........anyways, I will going to watch "Hang over" on tuesday with my friends so that might refresh my mind. I just have to learn to let it go....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;snehal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-4833136490090167031?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/4833136490090167031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/06/confused.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/4833136490090167031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/4833136490090167031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/06/confused.html' title='CONFUSED!!!!'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-1178381977987703325</id><published>2009-05-27T13:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T13:34:15.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Married Life: what about it??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It’s just about waking up together……….. Planting a kiss on each others cheeks…….Making each other wake up to avoid getting late at work……….Cooking chapaties for Tiffin and calling out his name to show him how they fill up with air to become round balls on the flame……Flinging mustard seeds on hot oil and hearing the pit pat sounds from a long distance in apprehension……… to hurry up in getting ready and then wishing not to go anywhere……. Speaking to each other from office like we haven’t met for really long………. Sharing our views on the taste of the Tiffin sabji on phone at work……. coming home to each other...…Being in a warm hug after a hard days work……. Asking him what he would like to eat for dinner and cooking just that…….Chit-Chatting after dinner till the plates go dry……… Waiting for the weekends and planning for them…….. Waiting for weekends and deciding not to make any kind of plans on the weekends…….. Watching back to back movies with cups of hot coffee……. Calculating the expenses and checking if we are on track….. Inviting everyone so the house buzzes for a while with more voices……. Dusting and cleaning the house together with a lot of fun….Cooking nothing when bored, ordering a pizza instead…….. Lazing around in the house with no particular task…Asking him not to switch on the radio in the car so that I could talk…..Him wondering how I can talk so much throughout the day……….Discovering always amusing at times irritating habbits about each other ……Getting up on a Monday morning and wishing it was a Sunday………Isn’t it blissful!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad I married Manoj...........its really is blissful.............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;take care,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love&lt;br /&gt;snehal&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-1178381977987703325?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/1178381977987703325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/05/married-life-what-about-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/1178381977987703325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/1178381977987703325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/05/married-life-what-about-it.html' title='Married Life: what about it??'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-1177887776746803930</id><published>2009-05-11T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T14:44:40.122-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What are your reading habits?</title><content type='html'>I had to write this regarding reading habits of people as I recently met 4 different people who said they hate to read novels and this includes my dear husband as well. And I just dont know how they survive without reading a novel.                      &lt;p&gt;       &lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2007/LIVING/wayoflife/08/21/reading.ap/index.html"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102226828542881858" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UMdv-1Zps00/Rs7ARI7EMEI/AAAAAAAAAFk/-mJ6P2upcMI/s200/read.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anyways, I came across this article couple of days ago about a poll on reading habits. According to the poll, and this is terribly sad to hear, one in four human beings did not read a book in the past year. (What do these people do before they go to asleep??)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The poll also points out that women buy/read more books than men. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What are your reading/buying habits? If you're frequenting this blog, I'm sure you're an avid reader. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I borrow about 2-4 books every month from library. Do I read all of them? Mostly, yes. But there are books that I can simply not get into. I recently borrowed a very popular book called &lt;em&gt;Q&amp;amp;A&lt;/em&gt; by Vikas Swarup. I am more inclined to read views from South Asian and Indian writers; just to see what they are up to and I mostly like books by “my people.” This book got rave reviews. It did nothing for me. I gave up after the first hour or so. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I love Carl Hiaasen's writings and picked up his latest, &lt;em&gt;Nature Girl&lt;/em&gt; but I couldn't cross past first fifteen pages. But then I recently ended up reading &lt;em&gt;The Reluctant Fundamentalist&lt;/em&gt;, a book I was sure I would find too self-important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hope that those who don't read much, will pick up a book and give it a shot--just to see if it works for them. Who knows, the book you pick up will make you fall in love with reading!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Meanwhile I will work on my husband to help him pick up a book.......&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lets see how it goes,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Will keep you posted on that for sure.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;TC,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Snehal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-1177887776746803930?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/1177887776746803930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-are-your-reading-habits.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/1177887776746803930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/1177887776746803930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-are-your-reading-habits.html' title='What are your reading habits?'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UMdv-1Zps00/Rs7ARI7EMEI/AAAAAAAAAFk/-mJ6P2upcMI/s72-c/read.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-8419651160499661200</id><published>2009-04-27T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T07:19:26.559-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PEOPLE WHO CARE'/><title type='text'>PEOPLE WHO CARE</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"  &gt;"NEVER TAKE A PERSON FOR GRANTED.Hold EVERY PERSON CLOSE TO YOUR HEART CAUSE YOU MIGHT WAKE UP ONE DAY &amp;amp; REALIZE THAT YOU'VE LOST A DIAMOND WHILE YOU WERE TOO BUSY COLLECTING STONES."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Something happened yesterday which made me very upset and made me think more in to past....I kept of thinking about it for full night and till now.....That feeling doesn't seem to be going away..... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;But a person who cares for you is there for you always ...that could be a friend, your husband or one of your relative…. Tough times reveal who are there standing really with you….. Who truly cares…..&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;In past few days I learnt few lessons about life that I would like to share….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;In last two years I was in my own world and I never realized the people I was walking with were losing touch… I was so indulged with myself and my feelings for a particular thing that I ignored everything else…. Just everything else… my close friends who really cared for me… I was away from my closest friends for just one particular thing… And I never felt that I left many people behind who were really concerned….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Today I am on a stage where I don’t have that one thing which left me two years ago and am realizing it today that standing all alone…. For a moment I felt I lost everything in life but then I turned back and I realized those people who cared standing at their places with their arms wide open and waiting to hear from me……. and that was enough to made me realize what i was doing.... it was another life for me....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;In last few days I learnt that your care and love is precious don’t just waste it someone who do not just care for you… you might be losing those who really care about you…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Now I have learnt this lesson though I might take some time to come out the previous things but yes life has taught me a lesson I’ll remember and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong  style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I really Thank my all friends for being there for me…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am feeling sorry that weakened the friendship bond but I can make sure that it won’t happen again… Life is precious and there are many people for whom your smile matters for those your tears are precious so just care about them and celebrate life…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;People come and people go.... some will hurt you, some walk with you…. But life moves on….&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;And it is a fact!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;isn't it??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Snehal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-8419651160499661200?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/8419651160499661200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/04/people-who-care.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/8419651160499661200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/8419651160499661200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/04/people-who-care.html' title='PEOPLE WHO CARE'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-7525058440844940386</id><published>2009-04-17T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T09:38:18.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is this a perfect world??</title><content type='html'>In imperfection, is perfection."  &lt;p&gt; This is the quote that comes to mind when contemplating whether or not this world is "perfect". "Perfection" as a term is a bit questionable, even unattainable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What really can be described as "perfect" exactly anyway, that is, as unanimously perfect? Perfection, in fact, seems more like a notion, a concept, an idea, or a theory than an actual state of being in reality. Furthermore, time is always moving, so even when, if ever, attained, a state of perfection in reality is rarely permanent. Perfection, if even possible, is most likely objective. So only in that way is "perfection" possible, depending on your definition, of course. For myself, as is demonstrated in the quote, perfection is achieved when you find the purpose for everything- even, or i should say especially, in all of life's little inconveniences. Once you find their reason, the chance of you learning something from them is greatly heightened. so thats what its about: turning "imperfection" into something useful, because when you do, suddenly they aren't "imperfections" anymore, but opportunities. And sometimes learning something worthwhile from something that seemed nothing but an inconvenience is more rewarding than had it been a "perfect" situation to start with. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So if perfection is really about appreciating imperfection, because really perfection is not possible if you cannot do that, the question has changed from what is perfection to what is imperfection? rest assured, imperfection is everywhere. imperfection is in human beings, in daily situations, in weather, "imperfection" can be find everywhere, even down to the earth's geography.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; if you think about it, is a state of "perfection" achievable at all? After all, little quirks, little mistakes, little differences is what makes life so interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Isn't it??&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;snehal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-7525058440844940386?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/7525058440844940386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/04/is-this-perfect-world.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/7525058440844940386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/7525058440844940386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/04/is-this-perfect-world.html' title='Is this a perfect world??'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-296500825308787204</id><published>2009-03-07T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T04:56:03.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Traffic Jam</title><content type='html'>It was Tuesday evening and I left office bit early thinking I could go home early and relax with a cup of coffee and a Episode on Friends on TV3. And out of nowhere I found myself stuck in traffic. It was not a typical “rush hour” time of day and normally traffic does not get backed up like this. I figured there must be an accident or some type of serious incident up ahead just out of sight.  I was all alone in my car slowly creeping my way forward, bumper to bumper, continually looking for the flashing lights of ambulances and police cars; the telltale signs of a roadway incident. Then, all of a sudden, traffic began to move normally again. There is no sign of an accident, incident, or any other cause of the slowdown in traffic. What happened? By now I was in this traffic for more that an hour and half, normally it takes only 35 to 40 minutes for me to come home... What must have happened??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, after 2 hrs and 30 minutes, I finally reached home and had nice cup of coffee with any FRIENDS. and still wondering what must have happened????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-296500825308787204?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/296500825308787204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/03/traffic-jam.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/296500825308787204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/296500825308787204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/03/traffic-jam.html' title='Traffic Jam'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-840296118268343714</id><published>2009-02-26T14:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T14:41:41.055-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebrating Lent</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"&gt;"What are you giving up for Lent?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"&gt;That's the question on everyone's lips right now. Of course, as I write this, Mardi Gras is in full effect in cities all over the world, as people indulge one last time before their Lenten sacrifices and fasts. But the question is still there: "What are you giving up for Lent?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"&gt;I am hindu and I have thought so much about lent before this year. It just seems this year everyone is talking about it or am I thinking too much?? Anyways, Hindu's never keep lent for anything or do we?? anyways i keep wondering what will I give up if i would have to keep lent??&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"&gt;The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the idea of self-sacrifice, while noble and worthwhile, was beginning to overshadow what Lent was all about. It seems that Christians are very good at creating ceremonies that end up overshadowing the event commemorated. The purpose of Lent is to prepare the observant for Holy Week. It has always been designed to be a time of contemplation, worship, and prayer leading up to the celebration of Christ's resurrection; fasting and "self-sacrifice" was never a means unto itself, but a part of the prayer and worship that went into the season. The denial was intended to remind you to pray — rather than do whatever you're giving up, you pray, or meditate. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"&gt;But I'm not Catholic, so the question remains — what to give up?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"&gt;A friend of mine is giving up Chocolates for Lent. I like my share of chocolate however i am not mad for them; I can easily go days sometimes even weeks before I eat one so It would be easy, but that defeats the purpose.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"&gt;Finally I decided that I would give up something easily as precious as anything I've mentioned: time. Lent is meant to prepare you spiritually for the celebration of the Resurrection, so I am taking that seriously. So for next 40 days I am going to give up reading gossip magzines. No to HELLO, NEW GIRL OR HOUSE KEEPING!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"&gt;will see how it goes!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"&gt;love,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"&gt;snehal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-840296118268343714?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/840296118268343714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/02/celebrating-lent.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/840296118268343714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/840296118268343714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/02/celebrating-lent.html' title='Celebrating Lent'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-5268099638246627717</id><published>2009-02-26T02:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T02:43:02.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pallavi.. Straight from the heart!!: Men from Mars, Women from Venus….. Really???</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://pallavipatkar.blogspot.com/2009/02/men-from-mars-women-from-venus-really.html#links"&gt;Pallavi.. Straight from the heart!!: Men from Mars, Women from Venus….. Really???&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree with you Pallavi, Life would have been boaring if men were not men and we women would have had nothing to complain about them.... What i only would request you change in them if you do become a goddess is that give them some sense of clealiness. My husband makes mess of things and then says...Ghar he doghanch asat....ekane pasarle tar dusryane savrayach asat.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-5268099638246627717?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://pallavipatkar.blogspot.com/2009/02/men-from-mars-women-from-venus-really.html#links' title='Pallavi.. Straight from the heart!!: Men from Mars, Women from Venus….. Really???'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/5268099638246627717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/02/pallavi-straight-from-heart-men-from.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/5268099638246627717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/5268099638246627717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/02/pallavi-straight-from-heart-men-from.html' title='Pallavi.. Straight from the heart!!: Men from Mars, Women from Venus….. Really???'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148466897984863651.post-37641331422003891</id><published>2009-01-05T03:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T03:46:06.322-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snehal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/148466897984863651-37641331422003891?l=snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/feeds/37641331422003891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/01/snehal.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/37641331422003891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/148466897984863651/posts/default/37641331422003891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://snehalprabhukeluskardhirde.blogspot.com/2009/01/snehal.html' title='Snehal'/><author><name>snehal Prabhukeluskar Dhirde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01145426468460681993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
