<?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-17503785</id><updated>2012-01-28T05:19:24.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sex on the beech</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>54</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-5523032322514388501</id><published>2009-08-20T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T17:03:58.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tangential Universes!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Late last night as i watched the tweeked, excited and bobbing heads at M, fake thrills and tight jeans reigned supreme......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me feel, that we all exist in parallel universes. Each of us in our own. Everybody is oblivious of what exists outside of their universe. I see J, BB, GT, BT all in their own. For J of course its all about him getting noticed. As for HB too its about the alcohol and the nonsensical chatter. The thai group are in their own. Hoping for attention. Totally ignored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as for me, I guess I am ova the hill...Or so I presume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do our universes exist in tangent to others. Considering the fact that each of us have the power conentrate and contract the entire universe into us!!! Which obviously is not a very profitable proposition in todays world, We definately are powerful. But does this have to exist so isolated? Can't we in a way co exist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or shud i ask, What difference does it make to be in a parallel universe or a tangential universe, or another universe at all. The thought is our universe. Its the mind. The soul of a being that our life lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess maybe its not that complicated at all. I don't see another way without everyone being aware of al being. Perhaps others defy my thought!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is such an oblivious existence???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-5523032322514388501?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/5523032322514388501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=5523032322514388501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/5523032322514388501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/5523032322514388501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2009/08/tangential-universes.html' title='Tangential Universes!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-5853534033378942343</id><published>2009-08-16T03:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T03:40:46.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vanity Closet!!!</title><content type='html'>What is it with gay men and trying so hard to look good. S ones commented, 'U r lucky, gay men r always good looking'.&lt;br /&gt;From the outside, for a spectator, this all seems hoity toity. A world enclosed in a glass coach, on its way to the Prince Charming's ball. The problem is, not everyone can fit into it.&lt;br /&gt;It is not easy to change the appearance with which we are born with. Of course with todays advancement, it definitely is, but not man can afford it or go that far. Which mean we try our best to do with what we have.&lt;br /&gt;Having said that, the whole gay community is informally split into two. The haves and the have nots. No its not the money. Its pure physical beauty. Most try and go any lengths to be included with the 'haves'.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I am getting this right. I am quite unsettled with this whole preoccupation with beauty and brawn. More after coming here. The focus is not on health, but on who is the next person to eye your handsome figure ( translates: Will I sleep with him)&lt;br /&gt;Somehow looking good and built up and handsome and fitting into our already preprogrammed and preconceived notion of ideal beauty, seems to be like your passport to life.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder about people who are not fotunate enough to be abe to look good. What about them.&lt;br /&gt;I think my question should be, what is it that attracts people to each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow also it seems so unfair that all the handsome adonis' enjoy very active sexual lifestyles, get to date the best of guys, have a good looking set of friends and in general a beautiful life. While the others just watch and sigh 'I wish'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one should question oneself, what makes one happy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a very hard supposition. I see a very deep imbalance. Looking good is fine, but for whom are you preparing yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe its the issue of a drive. What drives you. Sex, beauty, wealth, achievement, personality, love or satisfaction?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or I think i should not compare my life with anybosy elses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts are all mixed up. But I'll get it through, I know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-5853534033378942343?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/5853534033378942343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=5853534033378942343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/5853534033378942343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/5853534033378942343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2009/08/vanity-closet.html' title='Vanity Closet!!!'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-3965901631149161505</id><published>2009-08-14T01:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T01:48:40.501-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ursula Stephens lame defence on y we have no equal marriage rights!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;I am writing to acknowledge your email.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;To clarify what I said in my speech to the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;event in Parliament House&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;“  the Australian Government believes that people are entitled to respect, dignity and the opportunity to participate in society and receive the protection of the law regardless of their sexuality or marital status. The Government’s commitment to this belief was demonstrated through the Government’s audit of Commonwealth laws in 2007 to identify discrimination against same-sex couples and their children.  This was followed in 2008 by the passage of legislation to remove discrimination from 84 Commonwealth laws. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;These reforms mean that same-sex relationships are now treated in the same way that opposite­sex de facto relationships are treated for the purposes of Commonwealth entitlements and programs.  The general areas of laws that have been reformed are taxation, superannuation, social security, health, aged care, veterans’ entitlements, workers’ compensation, employment entitlements, immigration and other areas of Commonwealth administration.  In some areas, such as social security, taxation and veterans’ affairs, the reforms were phased-in to allow time for couples to adjust their finances, and for administrative arrangements to be implemented.  All of the changes have now been implemented.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;The Rudd Government is committed to ensuring that all couples whether marriage or de facto do not suffer discrimination.  The Government’s position is that the most appropriate way to achieve this is through the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;development of nationally consistent framework that provides the opportunity for all couples who have a mutual commitment to a shared life to have their relationship officially recognised and equal rights for all couples in federal and state laws.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;These reforms are to be implemented consistently with our commitment to maintaining the definition of marriage as currently set out in the Marriage Act.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;I make no comments about the claims of abuse of the demonstrators because I did not see or hear those&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;claims&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;.   This morning I spoke to one of the protestors and advised him of this fact and he apologised to me for the disruption. A formal complaint has been made by the protestors to the Presiding Officers of the Parliament and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;color:#1f497d;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;will be independently investigated&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;A copy of my speech is available from my website:  &lt;a href="http://www.ursulastephens.com/" target="_blank"&gt;www.ursulastephens.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;Yours sincerely,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-au"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;Ursula Stephens&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/17503785-3965901631149161505?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/3965901631149161505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=3965901631149161505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/3965901631149161505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/3965901631149161505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2009/08/ursula-stephens-lame-defence-on-y-we.html' title='Ursula Stephens lame defence on y we have no equal marriage rights!!!'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-5133879813585177362</id><published>2009-08-12T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T17:57:07.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Resurrection!!!</title><content type='html'>I haven't written since I last wrote, cause there has been so much going on in my mind, that I found it so hard to put it down. I wish we had some kind of contraption that read things from our mind and saved it, as or thoughts raced and flashed across in the deep recesses of our unconquered brain.&lt;br /&gt;Since then its has been a whirl wind. I suddenly feel I have no control over my life anymore. I always said, that we are so conditioned to anticipate that which is safe and predictable. Why is it that only a few of us are brave enough to think otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;When life gives you things that you never expected, you kind of feel humbled and surprised. I am wondering if i should figure out why this happens, or just let it be. This also is a result of us conditioned to find reason and logic in everything that we live by or experience. Its odd.&lt;br /&gt;But I am left at crossroads.&lt;br /&gt;Right from my sudden decision to move, to the loan being accepted to my flying out here. To the people I have met and the experiences i have had. It has left me dizzy. I feel like time out. But I am already in the eye of the storm and can't get out. But then again, why not stay and fight it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well there are so many things i want to say. I guess i'll write from time to time. It feels like Ganga falling from heaven and shiva having to curtail her fury by catching her flow in his glorious mane!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mine flows from my heart. And the pot is full to the brim as it spilleth over!!!!!1&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-5133879813585177362?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/5133879813585177362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=5133879813585177362' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/5133879813585177362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/5133879813585177362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2009/08/resurrection.html' title='Resurrection!!!'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-4347553619660464265</id><published>2008-05-15T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T17:36:16.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MS</title><content type='html'>Recently on my holiday to India, I chanced upon a book in my father's library, which i had contemplated on buying earlier but hadn't for some strange reason. It was a biography on the Life of MS.  Though I am very curious to read about the lifes of famous people especially in the field of Music and dance, I am some what sceptical about Biographies, in the sense that they have always changed my opinion about a lot of people, simply because it has been written by someone else. Maybe this is my mind block. I actually prefer autobiographies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, I did read the book. It gave me many insights on her life and threw light on a lot of the lesser known facts about her and her famously dictative husband, Sadasivam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What struck me was that rebels of a certain generation, no matter how massively the have deviated from what was perceived to be conventional among their contemporaries, invariably become an icon of tradition for the next generation. Isn't that amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MS had a very adventurous early life, because of everything that she chose for herself and associated herself with. Having been looked at as a total modernist of her times, she turned herself into the ultimate manifestation of a middle class brahmin housewife, no matter all her racy and stormy past. Her talent famously harnessed and orchestrated by her husband supplemented her submission to control and restrictions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet she had an aura of a true Diva. A timeless beauty, voice and all, a life, determination, dedication, total submission and gut truely inspiring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-4347553619660464265?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/4347553619660464265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=4347553619660464265' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/4347553619660464265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/4347553619660464265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2008/05/ms_15.html' title='MS'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-2757748639298930546</id><published>2008-01-07T12:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T02:50:56.411-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Power of Disguise!!!!</title><content type='html'>Ever wondered the value of a costume?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently i got thinking about this during the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;magnificent&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt; day brunch that we were hosting at The Wharf. The Santa Claus is a legend, that has lived for a long time, always mesmerising and transporting the dreamy eyed 3-4 yr &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt; into a world of fantasy and fables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;In spite&lt;/span&gt; of the tremendous metamorphosis, the basic red and white fur ball character as been immortal. Never ageing anymore. I wonder if kids even think about the younger days of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Santa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Claus&lt;/span&gt;. What could he be possibly doing? I wonder if they even wonder, where &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Santa&lt;/span&gt; gets all the money to buy all the presents?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all know the the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Santa&lt;/span&gt; bubble bursts as the years pass by , when we start to realise that after all, babies are not brought by the storks, and the likes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still the power that a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Santa's&lt;/span&gt; costume carries is so tremendous, that on that day i thought, ' it is indeed incredible how the red and white bundle actually commands so much of adulation and attention'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was watching as our own &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Santa&lt;/span&gt; glided on the shimmering waters of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Arabian&lt;/span&gt; gulf on a traditional &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Arabian&lt;/span&gt; boat. There were loud cheers and surprised gasps those that had been reserved specially, probably practised for this day, the whole year.&lt;br /&gt;Little children are the ones who have the most amazing and timeless expressions, worth living a life for.&lt;br /&gt;Later when the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Santa&lt;/span&gt; was distributing gifts, a young boy all flustered and panting after a visibly hot chase of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Santa&lt;/span&gt;, walks up to good ole &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Santa&lt;/span&gt; and says with a doe eyed astonished expression,'SANTA, where were you? We were looking for you everywhere!! thank god we found you!!!'&lt;br /&gt;These are the words of a three year old that lives in a totally non suspecting world, filled with endless possibilities and fabulous fantasies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; when I thought, an ordinary guy as M, behind the red and white costume, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;transforms&lt;/span&gt; into this immense and all conquering Santa. While the red and white costume lies in a changeover bag, i wondered again, does this have any value now? How it came alive just a little while ago. It is after all a costume!! No one once thought of the person behind the costume. They only saw the character. The Santa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do we gay men also go behind personality costumes, so no one would recognise us? Do we also command wider and better respect behind these 'costumes'? Are we so scared to be ourselves? Can we show the world who we are without hiding and yet attract all the attention?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Power of Disguise is surely powerful beyond comprehension. But is this power really necessary?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-2757748639298930546?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/2757748639298930546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=2757748639298930546' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/2757748639298930546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/2757748639298930546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2008/01/power-of-disguise.html' title='The Power of Disguise!!!!'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-6094231830504182656</id><published>2007-11-18T15:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T15:30:52.584-08:00</updated><title type='text'>....................&lt;&gt;...........................</title><content type='html'>The sun shines through , moisture not withstanding,&lt;br /&gt;rises to leave, urged to look for better bearings,&lt;br /&gt;The sun sets,&lt;br /&gt;we light candles,&lt;br /&gt;Open to serve,&lt;br /&gt;dance to every fancy,&lt;br /&gt;powered by every whim,&lt;br /&gt;a calm and peace, painfully delivered,&lt;br /&gt;so easy it seems, yet so hard we feel,&lt;br /&gt;from greeting to seating, paying and leaving,&lt;br /&gt;circles within circles, bound by the rhythm,&lt;br /&gt;the magnet that sucks the energy,&lt;br /&gt;from deep inside them, they can't still fathom&lt;br /&gt;is the life we chose to live.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of the dreams and desires...&lt;br /&gt;of passion and dedication, ...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-6094231830504182656?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/6094231830504182656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=6094231830504182656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/6094231830504182656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/6094231830504182656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2007/11/blog-post.html' title='....................&lt;&gt;...........................'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-4356341405829206678</id><published>2007-09-23T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T18:44:03.239-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Acceptance</title><content type='html'>When I look around me, I see that lot of our lives revolve around gaining acceptance for the things we do. I often wonder, why do we have this craving for acknowledgement and accpetance? Where does this kind of an urge surface from?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some people I know who live their lives the way they think is the widely accepted way. In the process loose their entire identity. Why would you want to wear certain clothes, only because one thinks they would be looked up with high regard, and therefore will enhance your personality, or speak a certain way cause that will raise your status.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you think in such a gamble, the person will forget, what he /she really wants. What were his/her true ambitions and true personality. There are some who forget completely who they really are cause they are so busy being somebody they perceive to be cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is, I believe, a thin line between, such a perception and widely accepted social norms. People who have been famous are the ones who have complied to norms yet have been themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine a society where nobody is pressurised to prove anything to anybody. There would be numerous personalities that would make plain living itself such an enriching experiance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead we are like puppets, trying to be a certain way without realising for whom we do it. So much that some even start denying their nationality and roots, not realising that no matter how much one denies their roots, we still are what we are only because of our roots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be what you are. You are unique in every sense of the word. All you need to do is follw your heart and be yourself, instead of pretending to be somebody else!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-4356341405829206678?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/4356341405829206678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=4356341405829206678' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/4356341405829206678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/4356341405829206678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2007/09/acceptance.html' title='Acceptance'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-6986140481612527501</id><published>2007-07-29T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T16:39:55.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two juicy oranges after tiring, hot summer's day......</title><content type='html'>There isn't anything more pleasurable than having to peel and savour the juiciness of two lovely cold oranges after the end of a particularly hot summer's day. Toiling in the heat sweating it out for the pleasure of a few. This is my latest discovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I relish every drop of the orange juice as i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;reminisce the lunch i had with V, the afternoon of yet another hot summer day. Inside the womb of a massive shopping mall terrace, one doesn't feel the heat. As though one is wrapped in fiction. Forced to believe what is not. Like a baby is sheltered in the safety of its mother's womb, we (V and I) experiance the feeling of a pre monsoon drizzle while we sit in this contraption in the middle of the desert.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;A meeting thus progressing, naturally 'auto saves' itself in the memories deepest chests. How often can one open up to a total stranger. Sharing your every emotion. Laying your trust in someone, u never knew until few days ago. Just our sexuality bringing us together. Believing his every word about himself to be true. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;It is not quite often that we meet lovely individuals in our lives, that when we meet it is hard to believe that the joys of that meetimg remains nowhere but in one corner of our brain, where all sweet memories are destined to be locked in for the pleasure of just one person. ME....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-6986140481612527501?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/6986140481612527501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=6986140481612527501' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/6986140481612527501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/6986140481612527501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2007/07/two-juicy-oranges-after-tiring-hot.html' title='Two juicy oranges after tiring, hot summer&apos;s day......'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-4691270447614647397</id><published>2007-05-24T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T12:57:16.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling in love!!!</title><content type='html'>After spending numerous, well quite a few years trying to understand the whole concept of falling in love and after stumbling on it a couple of times and after counselling!!!! a few wannabe couples and a few 'already couples had a fight' and few 'cheating on each other couples' and few 'broken up couples', i should be christened 'relationships counsellor', or 'love sticher' or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, i have come up with these 2 theories , that are conflicting and am trying to figure out which is right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One is that if you like somebody and decide to fall in love, then go out of your way to make your feelings known and then try your best to woe him. But in this scenario, there is a possibility that the other guy does not like you. In which case your effort goes in the dump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, you could wait until somebody falls in love with you and then evaluate him to decide if you like her. In such a case, you might have somebody you don't like fall in love with you, or there might be someone who likes you but thinks that you don't like him, so is waiting for you to make the first move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess both of them oil down to one point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just Keep trying!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still doesn't answer my question!!!! Should i fall in love or wait for my prince charming?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer!Answer! where art thou?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-4691270447614647397?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/4691270447614647397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=4691270447614647397' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/4691270447614647397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/4691270447614647397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2007/05/falling-in-love.html' title='Falling in love!!!'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-7451686005703600398</id><published>2007-05-11T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T12:50:15.975-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Table for 2? right away...</title><content type='html'>Having chosen the hospitality, restaurant business in particular by my own choice, i wonder sometimes, what made me take this decision. I have always answered the same whenever i have been asked this, that it is people and food that have dragged me into this profession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working in the same restaurant for the last 3 years, I have seen many join this place with me, have left and new ones joined and left too. Being quite positive, i don't look at my staying here for so long as a negative, nevertheless I am trying my best to move out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the reason I am writing today is because of something that has bothering me for quite sometime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who dine in the restaurants dine there for various reasons. Entertainment, Status, business, to show off or just plain hunger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who work in restaurants also work there for many reasons. Passion, Career, no choice or simply to make money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now in between these two comes this whole &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt; of the meal. The waiter provides, while the guest enjoys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have all this unwritten notions about various professions, that i don't know comes from where. Whatever it is. The bottom line for every restaurateur is to achieve guest satisfaction. For us it is a major part of our job and many of us got at great lengths to get the approval of guests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds simple. No. The problem arises with the expectations that guests come with. Nothing worng with that. Every human is not the same. Well, i don't expect them to be, the fun in this job is because of the variety we see everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem also lies in the fact that we don't realise that every guest is different. In our pursuit to offer consistency and high quality standard, we fail to realise that each one has different expectations.&lt;br /&gt;It is obvious that it is very difficult to figure out what exactly is every individual's route to happiness or satisfaction is.&lt;br /&gt;There are some who are so easy to please, yet others will complain no matter what u do, some want you next to them all evening, for some u have to behave like a servant, while others treat u like any other person. The restaurant profession is a very grey area. No obvious rules. So people are so unsure as to how they should deal with a restaurant staff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After thinking about all this, one thing i am sure about, is that the weakest point every human has is the ego.&lt;br /&gt;It is the ego that is appeased of every satisfied guest. Every guest nees to made to feel important. It is the restaurant they know, even if you are nothing outside, u are still royalty. Whether a millionaire or a carpenter they are all treated like royalty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But every restaurateur has to have the skill to be at all the levels to recognise the ego levels they need to boost, which few possess. Many have their own ego to deal with before they deal with guest's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what i am trying to figure out is, What makes people happy? Why are we taught what should make us happy? Why should we not figure out ourselves? Why do we need our egos to be boosted?  Why are we taught to have set notions about people, professions and expectations?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-7451686005703600398?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/7451686005703600398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=7451686005703600398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/7451686005703600398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/7451686005703600398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2007/05/table-for-2-right-away.html' title='Table for 2? right away...'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-8954236880282763477</id><published>2007-04-15T11:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T14:13:18.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love making.... !! or ??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; what it says,&lt;br /&gt;on the entrance of Cafe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ritazza&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for a toasted sandwich,&lt;br /&gt;I ponder,&lt;br /&gt;is there any other emotion,&lt;br /&gt;as driving as love making?&lt;br /&gt;That which elates, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;heightens&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;brings such a sudden surge.&lt;br /&gt;The thoughts of which lingers on,&lt;br /&gt;as the days pass by.&lt;br /&gt;What makes love making,&lt;br /&gt;so overpowering, all encompassing?&lt;br /&gt;Some lives are so driven by him.&lt;br /&gt;Yet others long to be with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You tell me S.&lt;br /&gt;Is it the love making,&lt;br /&gt;that brings us&lt;br /&gt;together again and again,&lt;br /&gt;or is it him,&lt;br /&gt;that will break us apart?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-8954236880282763477?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/8954236880282763477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=8954236880282763477' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/8954236880282763477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/8954236880282763477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2007/04/love-making-or.html' title='Love making.... !! or ??'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-6828313894397510489</id><published>2007-04-14T14:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T14:14:28.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In pursuit!!!</title><content type='html'>I have always tried my best to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;keep&lt;/span&gt; away from beliefs about the occult and the mystic for reasons of them being so anonymous and uncertain and i hate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;uncertainty&lt;/span&gt;. Its like a lioness hunting from a huge herd of deers, never know which ones going to be killed. But on the contrary i am the one who always propagates the idea of exploring the unseen territory. Someone once told me, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;look&lt;/span&gt; out for signs in your daily life, you will find the answers. All you need to do is just see those signs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of all the things that are going on in my life, I had to meet S at this time. I really don't know why. There is enough going on but still this had to happen. He is a guy I would love to grow old with, but does he feel the same way. He has his life that he was living before he met me. How much of it am i going to like and not? I have a phobia to put the first foot forward, lest i be dejected or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real question now is should i wait for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;circumstances&lt;/span&gt; to lead my way or should i fight it to go the way i want. I don't know if i have the energy to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying my best to keep afloat at work.All the work i do, never seems to be enough. Trying my best to complete my studies. Trying my best to deal with my hearing loss. Trying my best to be there with f&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;riends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Trying my best to find an alternate career. Trying my best to get out of this place. Trying my best to find a life partner. Trying my best to now to understand S and give him a good impression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the warm days roll by, I wonder to myself, what is it that would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;truly&lt;/span&gt; inspire me. What will wake me up and make me do all that i have always dreamt of doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spark! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; what is missing. I guess its just me!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-6828313894397510489?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/6828313894397510489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=6828313894397510489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/6828313894397510489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/6828313894397510489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2007/04/in-pursuit.html' title='In pursuit!!!'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-4900076649096037562</id><published>2007-02-25T19:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T19:43:48.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>shaadi karo paise kamao!!!</title><content type='html'>Mockery.... yes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first wedding i have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;experienced&lt;/span&gt; so up close and personal and it has been a one of its kind &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;How we reduce an honest religious/social requirement into a completely blatant excuse to mock a thing like marriage.&lt;br /&gt;I always believed marriage was about relationships, promises, party, fun but this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt; has got me thinking in many ways, i never wanted to think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How we have to deal with clashes in our value system especially in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Indian&lt;/span&gt; community. I enjoy the whole idea of an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Indian&lt;/span&gt; wedding, the dressing up, the customs, the reunions, the organising and many other things, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;at the&lt;/span&gt; same time I am gay and will NEVER be able to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt; all this myself. How money starts to rule every action and becomes the criteria to judge an entire family. How people within the family can ruin an entire wedding just because he wants more attention. How we are slaves to this culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We always talk of improvement, growing up and changing for the better. But the things that i have seen and heard i the last 1 week only makes me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;feel&lt;/span&gt; we are walking backwards. On one side is this whole thing about upholding culture and sanding by centuries old tradition, which we so proudly and expertly have guarded for centuries affected by change only at a mega micro level, and on the other hand we are trying our best to to bring about change in ideology, in thinking and society&lt;br /&gt;But where do we find the balance &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;between&lt;/span&gt; these too. To change we have to break away. But to proudly guard we can't perhaps embrace change so easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Tirupati&lt;/span&gt;, where millions of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Pilgrims&lt;/span&gt; and the most orthodox of people visit mesmerised by the divine power, the lord is worshipped besides his two wives, yet another goddess who supposedly angered by the lords previous bigamous marital status has another temple away for herself out of vengeance is also worshipped. And yet we are so sceptical about bigamy and extramarital affairs. The Gods are at it dammit!!!&lt;br /&gt;Isn't this proof enough of how we are struggling with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;our&lt;/span&gt; belief systems. Will we be able to embrace change so easily?&lt;br /&gt;I am a trained amateur &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Indian&lt;/span&gt; classical  dancer. I am taught to portray &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;celestial&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; mythical love stories among gods and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;goddesses&lt;/span&gt;, but I am gay. Will i be able to portray gay &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;references&lt;/span&gt; from the holy books? Will the audience accept it as ye another dance performance? Will the same old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Mamis&lt;/span&gt; and mamas &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;witness&lt;/span&gt; this performance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spend our lives trying to deal with things that are not going to benefit, improve and help us in any way, just because of the SOCIETY we live in. Won't this world be a much better place if we spent that energy in something more constructive, Personal development and the like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I told A, one of the main reasons i left this place is to get away from all of this and just concentrate on ME and just be ME.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-4900076649096037562?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/4900076649096037562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=4900076649096037562' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/4900076649096037562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/4900076649096037562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2007/02/shaadi-karo-paise-kamao.html' title='shaadi karo paise kamao!!!'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-6054322748077678248</id><published>2007-02-15T13:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T13:22:31.969-08:00</updated><title type='text'>V day Vignettes</title><content type='html'>Red roses everywhere,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gaudy flowers in a shape of a huge heart in our hotel lobby,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love struck teenage school children hiding fron their parents meeting their crushes to exchange gifts,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long queues at the florists,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Young couple (all dressed up) talking to another couple asking them to take the best taable at a restaurant,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man in red shirt with red roses at the red traffic signal waiting for his lady love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Young Indian couple, she probably wearing hih heels after a long time or for the first time, hair loose, Garden vareli saree, He just back from officem picked her up on his way, She clinging onto him, limping in her heels, He just happy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Mallu couple, Nice starched off white saree, on their way, Romantic dinner?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traffic jam apparently caused by valentines day,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A german farmer family in a Dubai bus in blazers and ties just out of the fancy Cruise at the port, bus full of labourers staring,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentines day cake at Cafe Qasr. Was finished when we reached.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two well dressed young men, waiting for their dates ? or were each other's dates?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lonely white man frissing on a lonely pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'A' still confused. Doesn't know if he wants me or doesn't want me!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B &amp; S my sweetheart buddys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-6054322748077678248?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/6054322748077678248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=6054322748077678248' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/6054322748077678248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/6054322748077678248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2007/02/v-day-vignettes.html' title='V day Vignettes'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-1966371665085394530</id><published>2007-01-16T12:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T13:14:04.387-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange World</title><content type='html'>The last few weeks have been a strange &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After having me for 3 years suddenly my bosses realised i could not hear too well, which &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;in fact&lt;/span&gt; is true,  but i have always tried not to let it affect the quality of my work. Guess it was still not good enough. NowI&lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt; am&lt;/span&gt; indirectly being asked to pack my bags and leave. What happened to those countless extra hours i worked without asking for compensation. What happened to all the projects i have done for the restaurant. what happened to every aspect of the restaurant i have so &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;truly&lt;/span&gt; bothered about. What happened to the training i had to do for my &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;assistant&lt;/span&gt; managers and supervisors who did not know their job too well. Wonder what really matters to stay popular in a profession.  Is sweet talking the only way up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In  the middle of all this my staff tells me that our new south african assisstant manager who has been double promoted for her blond looks, tweety voice and i don't know what else, is actually pocketing a fair amount of cash meant to be shared by the staff at the end of the month!!!! Beat that. A blond south african lady thief.&lt;br /&gt;Strange world is an understatement!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My long long last friend from &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-school days. sent me her wedding pics. I was shocked to see how much she has grown to be this lovely &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;adorable&lt;/span&gt; woman. We used to play games after school in the colony. Climb trees together. Jump over other people's compounds. Well. Well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Brother has finally decided to get married!!! After 4 yrs of courtship. I strange couple they make. Full of fancy, fanatical and &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;flungigulous&lt;/span&gt; ideas like worms in their heads. He is making a &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;docu&lt;/span&gt; for a &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Japanese&lt;/span&gt; television company. Wonder where their lives are taking them. Hope i can make it to the wedding. Will be the only wedding in our family. Unless i find a enterprising &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;soul mate&lt;/span&gt; willing radically stun(Shock) the great &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Indian&lt;/span&gt; middle class &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;brahminical&lt;/span&gt; society by staging a wedding between 2 men!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was offered a job offer at my first ever interview. Crap offer though. Was completely shocked. It seemed so easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S came up with this brilliant idea to market handicrafts from around the world in a shop that we can set up. Not a bad idea. I &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;came&lt;/span&gt; up with the idea to market paper bags in polythene infested Dubai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This and much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My head is circling. Thanks to B &amp;amp; S i am still sane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But i am positive.&lt;br /&gt;Positive for a bright new change.&lt;br /&gt;Positive that the corner i need to go round is very close.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-1966371665085394530?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/1966371665085394530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=1966371665085394530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/1966371665085394530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/1966371665085394530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2007/01/strange-world.html' title='Strange World'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-3224897050090831356</id><published>2006-12-14T10:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T10:18:46.554-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Attchments</title><content type='html'>Attachments are what I always dreaded and it is that which i always crave for. Everytime i have felt close to somebody romantically, I have lost them, invariably. As though it is life's way of saying, ' dude, this one's not for u, Chalo bhai!!! NEXT !!!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those reading this might probably know whom i am refering to. F gave us all a rude shock. It was like bungee jumping above a lake full of hungry crocodiles. I never knew if i was falling off or going back up only to know i am plunging back downwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This city of dreams as it beckons, lures, binds, builds and breaks, life moves on. Our torn hearts are stiched back. Dream on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This ones past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is next?????????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-3224897050090831356?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/3224897050090831356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=3224897050090831356' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/3224897050090831356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/3224897050090831356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/12/attchments.html' title='Attchments'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-7375568620639024275</id><published>2006-12-11T14:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T14:58:24.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rattlesnake</title><content type='html'>Away we went..&lt;br /&gt;a hang out of the days long before&lt;br /&gt;of freshly formed friendships.&lt;br /&gt;now relationships matured and aged..&lt;br /&gt;been thru lot of vengences and contempt..&lt;br /&gt;nevertheless here we were&lt;br /&gt;to the place yet again&lt;br /&gt;all was the same&lt;br /&gt;but nothing felt the same&lt;br /&gt;the pink table cloth and the red lantern&lt;br /&gt;disco lights and a dubai tavern&lt;br /&gt;c says follow ur passion..&lt;br /&gt;oh, how many times have i heard this..&lt;br /&gt;if everybody in this world followed their passions..&lt;br /&gt;what would have the world been like?&lt;br /&gt;circumstances....&lt;br /&gt;am i to blame?&lt;br /&gt;on the other side as i watch&lt;br /&gt;lines of chinese hookers waiting for their&lt;br /&gt;days business patrons...&lt;br /&gt;felt like a china town market..&lt;br /&gt;only it was a tavern in an arabic desert&lt;br /&gt;where it was raining.. old men as patrons&lt;br /&gt;were they following their passion&lt;br /&gt;did they have passions?&lt;br /&gt;............................&lt;br /&gt;could we all follow our passions?&lt;br /&gt;what would the world be like then?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-7375568620639024275?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/7375568620639024275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=7375568620639024275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/7375568620639024275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/7375568620639024275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/12/rattlesnake.html' title='Rattlesnake'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-3254479955881875855</id><published>2006-12-06T17:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T17:08:35.425-08:00</updated><title type='text'>...........</title><content type='html'>Read N and R tribute to Adolf. Very touching. I cannot imagine how deeply the loss is felt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was having lunch with my chinese colleague. I offered to share with him one of the bolied eggs i brought with me, which i boiled in my room, kettle. He said,'Oh! you cook too in the room?' I said,"No just boiling water and eggs. To which he said, boiling is one of the most original and first forms of cookery man invented. So I apparently cook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw Yunh Hota to Kya Hota, Dor and Bas Ek Pal. Were nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poo is back after the wedding. I still can't believe she is married.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-3254479955881875855?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/3254479955881875855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=3254479955881875855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/3254479955881875855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/3254479955881875855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/12/blog-post.html' title='...........'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-116379394667218512</id><published>2006-11-17T11:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T12:05:49.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Teeth Bring Wisdom???</title><content type='html'>It was the wisdom tooth. As though my body knew how to congratulate me or rather remind me that I was turning an year older, out came the wisdom tooth. I hope the last one. Those who have gone through it might realsie how painful it could be. Some could not understand, yet others were surprised I was "so young".&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless,  it was on my 26th birthday 2 weeks back that I got my wisdom tooth. Had a gathering of my close friends, some i met only a few months back, yet have become best of buddies. Nice to know life could bring such joys too. A party I had after almost 5 years. Was waiting for a time I had friends to care for. And here they were. Made my day!! Was happy after a long time. Thanx to A. Arrived the first to keep me company. To the lovely ever enthusiastic Punj Mallu and the traditional cake smearing ritual. Thanx to The Jaya-Amithabh couple(Amithabh turned up sooooo late) and aunty. Ross brought  his GF along. Met her for the first time. R and his usual jokes and a roar of a laughter.And of course S and P had to be there. They have been by me all through these 3 years. Through thick and thin, which I very often go through. And dear C,D&amp; T,  they were there for me at work always. &lt;strong&gt;S &amp; B&lt;/strong&gt; did make their absence very obvious. Wait until both are back!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanx guys.&lt;br /&gt;No thanx to you, 'wisdom tooth'. You are still painful!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so after my 26th, I start to think, where does the road lead. Do I just follow the way or do something different. My urge is to break free and go totally against the flow. I wouldn't mind even working in Timbuctoo or in the far east.&lt;br /&gt;Like how I notice very often at work, a dotting Russian mother gets impatient with every childish tantrum her child throws, while she is so preoccupied with her Shringar and Vasthra/Abhushan, that after sometime she just snaps and just the one firm look shuts the little kid for the next half hour.&lt;br /&gt;Am I also getting impatient with my life?  or just plain exhausted?&lt;br /&gt;J said I am just wasting my time in that restaurant. C always talks of work as though it were a basket full of mangoes that we carry on our head, and just waiting to unload or pass on. I never saw work as a headache. I always enjoyed this job, since I began. But I know this is not for me. I don't see myself doing this for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;The wisdom tooth surely arrived with much fanfare, painfare rather.&lt;br /&gt;But waiting for the light to dawn!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-116379394667218512?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/116379394667218512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=116379394667218512' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/116379394667218512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/116379394667218512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/11/teeth-bring-wisdom.html' title='Teeth Bring Wisdom???'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-116101661102725510</id><published>2006-10-16T09:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T09:36:51.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He, of my dreams.</title><content type='html'>Supressing my feelings,&lt;br /&gt;I welcome him,&lt;br /&gt;To feel "He is mine",&lt;br /&gt;Is like a bitter dream,&lt;br /&gt;A dream after coming out of which,&lt;br /&gt;You realise, that it is not true.&lt;br /&gt;How many things in life are not true.&lt;br /&gt;The Hope and Aspirations,&lt;br /&gt;Can they be dreamt and yet be true.&lt;br /&gt;He is mine yet he is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside i see the sun set,&lt;br /&gt;Yet again, the flaming ball of fire,&lt;br /&gt;bids farewell,&lt;br /&gt;Taking with it all my dreams,&lt;br /&gt;But it will rise again, I know,&lt;br /&gt;The Sun rises tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;As Sri writes,&lt;br /&gt;With a new day, of a new week,&lt;br /&gt;I still have those dreams,&lt;br /&gt;Maybe not of him.&lt;br /&gt;Cause his is a dream,&lt;br /&gt;That will always remain a dream.&lt;br /&gt;But I still wait, when the sun would leave my dreams&lt;br /&gt;with the stars of the night sky,&lt;br /&gt;and i will have them forever to live and dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-116101661102725510?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/116101661102725510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=116101661102725510' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/116101661102725510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/116101661102725510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/10/he-of-my-dreams_16.html' title='He, of my dreams.'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-116050741495953437</id><published>2006-10-10T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T12:10:15.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Racism!!</title><content type='html'>I am an Indian expat working in a 5 star hotel in Dubai. After having come to Dubai, I have had so many experiances with people from different cultures  that I feel so enriched. But not all of them have been enriching. I would like to particularly narrate one such experiance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to one of the many beaches in the Jumeriah locality yesterday with a German colleague of mine. We went after work in the morning just to relax. Since she had earlier planned for this trip, she was well equipped with her beach gear. I was just out of work, so just decided to roll up my trousers and remove my shirt to relax on the beach. Few minutes of chatting on the empty and tranquill beach later, a particular gentleman comes by and gets chatting with us. He seemed strange so we decided to ignore. Promptly he flashed his Dubai Police ID. Now I know the police here are quite efficient, but this was quite a surprise. I immediatly asked to see our IDs. My friend had hers while i brought mine from the car in the parking lot. On seeing my card which was exactly the same looking as my friend's ( of course we work for the same company), he asked where i am from, I said India. Then he asked for another ID of mine. I said this is what we have. To which he said that never mind her, i want to see urs. I obliged and showed my health card. Suddenly he told me, that i need to dress more appropriatly in this locality, BECAUSE the British, canadian or europeans come here in shorts and they would look at me in a strange way. This left me shocked. Is a representative from the Dubai police suggesting to me that i have to dress in a certain way on a public beach that does not mention any dress code according to what the europeans that frequent the area do. I am aghast. I understand i was not in the most ideal beach gear. But thats my problem and not the people coming to the beach. This sort of comment was least expected from a Policeman.&lt;br /&gt;I am a part of a large group of expatriate asians who come to Dubai for a better lifestlye and and promising career, just like my european brothers and sisters. Why is it that incidents like these never fail to convey to us asians that we are  not welcome here in this so called melting pot of cultures?  This goes to everywhere, Swanky restaurants, Nightclubs,  Health clubs...&lt;br /&gt;Have no words to express my outrage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-116050741495953437?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/116050741495953437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=116050741495953437' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/116050741495953437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/116050741495953437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/10/racism.html' title='Racism!!'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-116018636257261338</id><published>2006-10-06T18:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-06T18:59:22.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I the Black Hole</title><content type='html'>Life's precious turns,&lt;br /&gt;Rapidly turning,&lt;br /&gt;Spirals and Twists,&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I know not whats round the bend,&lt;br /&gt;But mystery is what makes it exiting,&lt;br /&gt;How it is to live in this vagueness,&lt;br /&gt;I void I cannot fathom,&lt;br /&gt;Like a black hole,&lt;br /&gt;My life and I take in whatever comes by us,&lt;br /&gt;Pains of planning not withstanding,&lt;br /&gt;Why do we get used to lifestyles and expectations?&lt;br /&gt;Expectations leading to frustrations.&lt;br /&gt;Feelingless and numb.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-116018636257261338?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/116018636257261338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=116018636257261338' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/116018636257261338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/116018636257261338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/10/am-i-black-hole.html' title='Am I the Black Hole'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-116001067629925429</id><published>2006-10-04T17:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T18:11:16.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What the future beholds!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Interior design Career? Immigration? Relationship? Happiness? Satisfaction?&lt;br /&gt;Treasured Friendships? Forgotten Promises? Expected Betrayals? Lost Friends?&lt;br /&gt;Childhood Friends? Success? Hope? Desire? Inspiration? Motivation? Love? Fantasy?&lt;br /&gt;Laughter? Independance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What??? Should I know? Do I know?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-116001067629925429?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/116001067629925429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=116001067629925429' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/116001067629925429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/116001067629925429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/10/what-future-beholds.html' title='What the future beholds!!!!!'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-115966868000422660</id><published>2006-09-30T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T19:11:20.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fascination</title><content type='html'>I always wondered where do we draw the line between the ancient/traditional and the now contemporary. Weren't the things that we consider ancient now, contemporary or modern at some point of time. I am talking specifically about architecture and interior design. Very often we see this new concept of fusion. Its not completely ancient and not completely modern. supposed to make the old, cool. But who decides what is the most appealing.  Sometimes, pure aunthenticity is not interesting to many, so some manipulate it to pouplar liking, and that itself becomes something authentic. I think there should be no label. Design should be purely based on appealing to the senses, at that very point of time. The idea of exotica is also a very learnt one. We are taught to percieve certain views and experiances as exotic. One particular website said distillation of modern and traditional styles. A design has to be free to be judged by the eyes of the beholder. A design should be created with no biases in mind, by pure inspiration and pure fascination. Does some design exist like that? Can we be not tied down by taught beliefs? Live with pure fascination???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-115966868000422660?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/115966868000422660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=115966868000422660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115966868000422660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115966868000422660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/09/fascination.html' title='Fascination'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-115925525316728237</id><published>2006-09-26T00:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T00:20:53.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Should one look for love in one's life or is it ok to wait for it. I was recently chatting with a friend and he was asking me if i liked a certain guy in a certain party. I said 'not my type' , to which he said, 'one cannot expect to meet Brad Pitt'. This was a tight slap on my face. My cheeks are actually red. Are my expectations too high. I wonder how long time couples fell in love. What attracted them to each other. Sometimes i see couples, where one of them is more popular and good looking, could have of course had a  better selction of guys to choose from. But settled in for this person. What brought them together? Where they making some kind of a compromise or was it a conscious choice? Should i just get into a relationship just because it is getting to late for me or should i wait? I don't know. In this world love is easy to look at from a distance, but difficult to experiance. Love is free, is it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-115925525316728237?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/115925525316728237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=115925525316728237' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115925525316728237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115925525316728237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/09/love.html' title='Love!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-115808342395546782</id><published>2006-09-12T10:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T10:50:23.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6422/1688/1600/IMG_0184.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6422/1688/320/IMG_0184.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6422/1688/1600/IMG_0641.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6422/1688/320/IMG_0641.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6422/1688/1600/IMG_0648.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6422/1688/320/IMG_0648.0.jpg" 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/17503785-115808342395546782?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/115808342395546782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=115808342395546782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115808342395546782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115808342395546782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-115808174619151891</id><published>2006-09-12T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T10:22:26.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lows of life!!!!</title><content type='html'>There are some moments in life when you feel like you have reached a desert with no Oasis. Yes. Desert. Dry, Hot, Seamless and massive as though beckoning towards its boundless extremes. But the truth is that one cannot see the hidden mysteries. All one sees is the stark reality of the desert. Hot and dry. I have reached the edges of a massive desert, I think, or is it an illusion? May be a reverse mirage. Probably just a 'mis' perception. I have to get across this screen. Unravel the mysteries that lay beyond. All sounds like the syereotypical explorer of the colonialist era fascinated by the orient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the 'now' world, this is just one of the lows!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its tiring to climb down hill. Wheres the next hill? I want to climb!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-115808174619151891?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/115808174619151891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=115808174619151891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115808174619151891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115808174619151891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/09/lows-of-life.html' title='Lows of life!!!!'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-115793636505997360</id><published>2006-09-10T17:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-10T17:59:25.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pride</title><content type='html'>Pride, Money, Arrogance, Rich, Attitude, Respect, Gratitude, PRIDE......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-115793636505997360?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/115793636505997360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=115793636505997360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115793636505997360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115793636505997360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/09/pride_10.html' title='Pride'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-115784645190321102</id><published>2006-09-09T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T17:00:51.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gratitude</title><content type='html'>I was just wondering in this world of fast track success and high speed achievements, what role does gratitude play. Life in the previous generation revolved around gratitude. Everyone was thankful to everyone else for the situation they were in. Where is the line between giving yourself credit for ur success and giving others the credit for ur success. How much should one be thankful, until When? Is it a matter of chance that we are in the situation that we now are? Or probably there are some others who are responsible for our position. Does that make us forever indebted to them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultimately it is the question of bonding!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Do you feel a part of them or do you feel you are an independent entity, a miracle, not subject to any circumstances, destined to be in this current positio,no matter what the circumstances!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-115784645190321102?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/115784645190321102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=115784645190321102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115784645190321102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115784645190321102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/09/gratitude.html' title='Gratitude'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-115749780345466633</id><published>2006-09-05T16:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T16:10:03.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Right here right now.</title><content type='html'>I saw this movie Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna. Honestly speaking i cried at some points in the movie. But those tears were of a lonely gay man wanting to experiance the same passion. But as a movie i thought it was over the top. Though the message was slightly different from the other movies. It was still conservative in more ways than one. The protagonists were still made to look like they did a big mistake. That i realised majorly in one scene when rishi goes to meet maaya after 3 years to invite her for his wedding. And she cries on hearing it. It is so obvious that she wanted him to say he wants her back. Also the messages one gets are totally mixed up. One doesnot know exactly what he is trying to say. The usual little takes on homosexuality in KJ's movies are so passe. Like when Dev stops a guy on the street and asks if he was married. The guy says why should he? He's Gay!!!!!!! Now what was that? Aren't gays married? What is he trying to say? Also the colors are so on the face. I accept Manish malhotra loves embellishment. That does not mean oody dr&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-115749780345466633?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/115749780345466633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=115749780345466633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115749780345466633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115749780345466633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/09/right-here-right-now.html' title='Right here right now.'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-115446979440577101</id><published>2006-08-01T14:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T15:03:14.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>timepass</title><content type='html'>I just finished reading the collection of memoirs of Protima Bedi. So many times while reading the book i have felt just like she felt in her life. Her feeling miserable after being a victim of child abuse. Her unrequitted love for Kabir inspite of her and his flings. Her dying need to be on her own and not to be tied down, yet at the same time looking for the security of a caring indvidual who would give anything to care for her.&lt;br /&gt;Somtimes i have said the same things that she has said in the course of her early life.&lt;br /&gt;Where is my calling? What will bring me happiness? Where will i eventually be? Where is this life going to take me? Should i fight to achieve or follow the path unfolding in front of me?&lt;br /&gt;Show me the light oh Lord!!!!&lt;br /&gt;I don't want thislife tobe just a Timepass!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-115446979440577101?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/115446979440577101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=115446979440577101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115446979440577101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115446979440577101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/08/timepass_01.html' title='timepass'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-115398344999394809</id><published>2006-07-26T23:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T18:16:07.491-07:00</updated><title type='text'>here we are</title><content type='html'>Here we are,&lt;br /&gt;after a night of dreams and desires,&lt;br /&gt;memories of the night so few,&lt;br /&gt;after the semillons and sirloins,&lt;br /&gt;not knowing the first from the second,&lt;br /&gt;Strings of endless conversations foreby,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now,&lt;br /&gt;endless rows of date palms on Al Wasl road,&lt;br /&gt;crushed dates and riped dates crying,&lt;br /&gt;longing to be plucked,&lt;br /&gt;on the morning of a hot summer day,&lt;br /&gt;in the month of june,&lt;br /&gt;under the sun now shining,&lt;br /&gt;mighty, conquering, burning,&lt;br /&gt;the beholder of the skies,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could i be the date?&lt;br /&gt;seem like a date on the date, the night before,&lt;br /&gt;ripe, crushed, longing to be plucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! how I miss the moon serene,&lt;br /&gt;of the night gone by,&lt;br /&gt;of the dreams and desires,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here we are.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-115398344999394809?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/115398344999394809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=115398344999394809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115398344999394809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/115398344999394809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/07/here-we-are_26.html' title='here we are'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-114886148671625660</id><published>2006-05-28T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T17:11:26.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the best coming out experiance ever</title><content type='html'>i had a treasure in my own house but i never knew it existed. We took her for granted all our lives but she has given me back my life . I live again. This is a new birth for me. I came out to my mother and she has accpeted and reacted in the most beautiful way that i ever could have imagined.&lt;br /&gt;Though i had half expected that she would not eact violently, i wasn't sure. But now i am truely shocked that she set me free.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone who came to know said wow!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;you have a very understanding and mature and intelligent mother.&lt;br /&gt;Wow ma am proud of you. If only you could hear all the things that they say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel elevated. free and light ready to fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am out finally!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-114886148671625660?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/114886148671625660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=114886148671625660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/114886148671625660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/114886148671625660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/05/best-coming-out-experiance-ever.html' title='the best coming out experiance ever'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-114549994201532628</id><published>2006-04-19T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T19:25:42.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>holding up</title><content type='html'>Ask in faith the email said. But faith in what. I have never been brought up with strict religious beliefs, which gives me freedom to choose and believe in what i want. i can analyse. But sometimes when i see people who have been conditioned into one particular religious faith, i feel jealous. Jealous because it isn't so easy for me. They seem to know exactly what they should do. Even if they were doing it blindly. They have something to believe in. but me , i am like a vagabond. not knowing where i belong. i want to be involved in some faith. want to ask in faith!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-114549994201532628?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/114549994201532628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=114549994201532628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/114549994201532628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/114549994201532628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/04/holding-up.html' title='holding up'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-114487833680358166</id><published>2006-04-12T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T14:45:36.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>yet another pothole</title><content type='html'>This pothole in my life was really bad. Have felt this bad after a long long time. Not a really good feeling. Its really awkward to get physically involved with someone whom you have worked with for sometime and know quite a bit, and have never imagined in your wildest dreams to be physically involved with. He says it happened... just happened... Not deep feelings or any of that. But then why all those mushy words and those conversations? Well.. to be honest i knew from day 1 that it wasn't true. But after holding your guard for 25 yrs and something like this happens, u feel and long and yearn to let your guard loose. And tas what i did.&lt;br /&gt;I knew i wouldn't find the boat to jump on to. I would have to keep afloat hoping uselessly.&lt;br /&gt;And today was judgment day.&lt;br /&gt;Had to arrive.&lt;br /&gt;Spoke... bared my soul... few tears of course... bad feeling&lt;br /&gt;But i know have to move on. Life's thorns!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now i rather bother about my career......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-114487833680358166?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/114487833680358166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=114487833680358166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/114487833680358166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/114487833680358166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/04/yet-another-pothole.html' title='yet another pothole'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-113970601220244633</id><published>2006-02-11T16:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T17:00:12.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>light at the end of the tunnel</title><content type='html'>what when you  don't want to see the light,&lt;br /&gt;what when you don't know when you see the light,&lt;br /&gt;what when theres no light, may be its the wrng tunnel,&lt;br /&gt;why a tunnel at all? Why not ALL light?&lt;br /&gt;Why do we go  through bad patches?&lt;br /&gt;what when you don't know where to turn,which direction to take?&lt;br /&gt;is there light at the end of the tunnel?&lt;br /&gt;why a tunnel at all? Why not ALL light&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-113970601220244633?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/113970601220244633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=113970601220244633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113970601220244633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113970601220244633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/02/light-at-end-of-tunnel.html' title='light at the end of the tunnel'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-113884050194771012</id><published>2006-02-01T16:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T16:35:01.960-08:00</updated><title type='text'>changing lives.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Scorpio: (24 October-22 November)Welcome to your new Home!  Whether youre moving physically or not, this week marks the nesting, rooting, repotting and replanting of your good Scorpio selves into a life that suits you more. I don't care how you do, did or are doing it ?just make sure this week marks a new beginning of inner comfort. If you don't have solid foundations now, you're going to have to go back and repeat it all later, which only further delays the professional peaks you're looking to scale up ahead. A new feeling of family develops, and you'll see this week how much you're being nurtured. The more you believe and care for your own sweet ass, the more others will kiss it and otherwise carry it. Don't cry over spilt milk ?it's half and half their fault and yours. To feel whole, skim away guilt and negativity ?this week is your new green light to be out-and-out proud to be your own person, going your own sweet way.&lt;br /&gt;New Moon Ideas: Paint, stock your cupboards, eat in, cook for someone, buy a new bed, move out / in, redefine your rules and toast the past then don't turn back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel an urge to do something new. I wanna go and explore. I want new experiances. He said " You are still young, you have a lot of time" Suddenly that makes me feel that i could do so many things. Am still looking to anchor somewhere!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-113884050194771012?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/113884050194771012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=113884050194771012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113884050194771012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113884050194771012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/02/changing-lives.html' title='changing lives.'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-113779389280071175</id><published>2006-01-20T13:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T13:51:32.813-08:00</updated><title type='text'>wisdom tooth, illicit relationships, tips at work.</title><content type='html'>my wisdom tooth is growing perpendicular to the rest of my teeth, starting from behind my mouth and growing right through my upper jaw and coming out in front. Bizarre!!!Have to get it extracted. What a way to loose my wisdom. I hope something else would show me the light and wisdom. May be my receding hairline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does it  feel to be a mistress? Physically satisfyng someone who cares for you not beyond the edges of your bed. Even not after reaching an orgasm. Some people thrive in such situations. They love the physical attention, almost like thats the only they know. While others are too proud to play second fiddle. How is it to be a mistress?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-113779389280071175?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/113779389280071175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=113779389280071175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113779389280071175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113779389280071175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/01/wisdom-tooth-illicit-relationships.html' title='wisdom tooth, illicit relationships, tips at work.'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-113675634166784303</id><published>2006-01-08T13:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-08T13:39:01.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>relationships</title><content type='html'>I have met many girls and guys who change boy friends like clothes so often. But have often wonderd what are the emotions they are going through. What is it that drives them through relatonships. What do they feel.... The yseem to be so dedicated to every relationship they are in, yet the transition form one to another when the former doesnt for some reason work out is remarkably smooth. Do you get into another relationship, to fill the void from the former , by doing the same things you did before or you start completly afresh? I don't think i will ever understand it, cause i have never been in a relationship, Maybe i should fall in love. The problem is the one i fall in love with always hapens to be straight!!!! well...well...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-113675634166784303?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/113675634166784303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=113675634166784303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113675634166784303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113675634166784303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2006/01/relationships.html' title='relationships'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-113433255116923940</id><published>2005-12-11T12:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-11T12:22:31.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'>serpentine dreams</title><content type='html'>Have you ever wondered what dream might mean. I have always so many times woken up from a night mare. Many times i get up just as i am being eaten up or bitten by a snake.... Yes, Sankes, I don't know why, i have always had dream of sankes either chasing me or i am running away from a snake. Lat night i saw a python like snake. Huge one, staring at me.&lt;br /&gt;Have also dreamt of flying. I suddenly lift off fro the ground and start flying. its the most amzing experiance. I see things from an ariel view of places i have never seen from top. I don't know how i can imagine how the place might look like from top......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-113433255116923940?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/113433255116923940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=113433255116923940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113433255116923940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113433255116923940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/12/serpentine-dreams.html' title='serpentine dreams'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-113296634437121397</id><published>2005-11-25T16:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-25T16:52:24.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>orange party</title><content type='html'>I walked in and it was dingy.. It was a birthday party... An orange bean bag, an orange bottle cap, an orange cushion, an orange paper peeping out of a glass cupboard, an orange fritter, an orange bottle cap and my orange belt. Intoxicated highs.... Drunken conversations.... Philosophy or so i presume.. Wine highs... Vodka highs...  Rum highs.. and sexual highs... high too high spilling over all out into the wash basin.. sunglasses in a dark room.. darkness is all she wanted to go back to.... Darkness is all she saw... Pissed minds and insulting conversations.... the fighters fighting it and the others  passing out... Give me the definition of fun..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-113296634437121397?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/113296634437121397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=113296634437121397' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113296634437121397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113296634437121397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/11/orange-party.html' title='orange party'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-113218882190772542</id><published>2005-11-16T16:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T16:53:41.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dreams come true</title><content type='html'>ever wondered about getting the things that you wanted by you not putting any efforts to get it. looking back i alway think of the things that i achieved or got, which i had previously wanted. it makes mefeel iambeing watched. someones reading my thoughts. had gone to the IKEA store today to get something for the restaurant , along with a friend who bought stuff for herself, and i found myself as usual wishing to buy so many new things. guess whathappened.  at the exit there was a guy from the local radio  station doing a live on air show . he asked me a question and though i couldn't answer gave me a gift voucher for 100 and i went back and bought the things i wanted , for free. its happened to me a lot of times.&lt;br /&gt;Do i feel grateful or obliged???&lt;br /&gt;can i wish or dream for more???&lt;br /&gt;will my dreams come true???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-113218882190772542?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/113218882190772542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=113218882190772542' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113218882190772542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113218882190772542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/11/dreams-come-true.html' title='dreams come true'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-113184729863813632</id><published>2005-11-12T17:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-12T18:01:38.646-08:00</updated><title type='text'>......................</title><content type='html'>hope despair strength fortune struggle confidence creativity loneliness relationship pride honesty travel love friendship lifestyle independance&lt;br /&gt;DANCE..............................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-113184729863813632?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/113184729863813632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=113184729863813632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113184729863813632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113184729863813632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/11/blog-post_12.html' title='......................'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-113132586826925337</id><published>2005-11-06T17:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T17:11:08.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday!!!!</title><content type='html'>Hey its my birthday today. Do you need to feel special or what. Was still at work when the clock struck 12. Everyone was running around in the restaurant. We were busy as usual. Led me to think, whats so special. Was born 25 years back on this day. SO... Am i to feel special on this day? Has started off as just another day. Hope there's more in store in life for me.  I hope i can live up to my own expectations of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-113132586826925337?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/113132586826925337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=113132586826925337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113132586826925337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113132586826925337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/11/happy-birthday.html' title='Happy Birthday!!!!'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-113097737799394153</id><published>2005-11-02T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-02T16:22:58.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sell your confidence</title><content type='html'>We had a staff briefing today,as we have everyday before the restaurant opens. While we were being told by our manager about being organised while serving guests, she mentioned about some of the pointers that i had made after i joined back work. I had told her that some staff jsut get confused and start to run around in circles. Then she said we must show our guests that we are organised and confident."Sell Confidence", she said. At that moment i that it was so profound. What a wonderful thing to say. Never thought of it. "Sell Confidence"...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-113097737799394153?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/113097737799394153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=113097737799394153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113097737799394153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113097737799394153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/11/sell-your-confidence.html' title='sell your confidence'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-113060376824072809</id><published>2005-10-29T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-29T09:36:08.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dhan theras,bomb blasts,fasting and celebration</title><content type='html'>I am going to buy gold tomorrow. My first ever gold possession. hahaha!!! Just caught my fancy to buy gold on dhan theras, tomorrow, a day before diwali. While some die in a bomblast, others fast for ramadan, some recovering from an earthquake, while an american weather forecaster blaming the japanese to have artificially triggered Wilma and Katrina and while Syrians being blamed for lebanon's woes, I am buying gold. hhmm....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-113060376824072809?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/113060376824072809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=113060376824072809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113060376824072809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113060376824072809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/10/dhan-therasbomb-blastsfasting-and.html' title='Dhan theras,bomb blasts,fasting and celebration'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-113044216692082378</id><published>2005-10-27T12:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T12:42:46.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fly me out my dream bird(man)...</title><content type='html'>Wanna get out of the desert, to greener pastures. Waiting for my prince charming, oops.. ah...my gaurdian bird, to fly me out of the desert. Or i have to grow my own wings. I think its better that way. I'll be my own prince charming........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-113044216692082378?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/113044216692082378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=113044216692082378' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113044216692082378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113044216692082378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/10/fly-me-out-my-dream-birdman.html' title='fly me out my dream bird(man)...'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-113044190862488422</id><published>2005-10-27T12:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T12:38:28.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>relationships.</title><content type='html'>I finished reading 'mistress' by anita nair. I like the way she writes, maybe because i am most comfortable with contemporary indian authors. Not all of course.&lt;br /&gt;After reading that, which so deeply revolves around relationships in a supposedly conservative kerala household. All the extra marital affairs that are given birth in their circles. Of course its fiction, but am wondering about this thing , marriage.&lt;br /&gt;How people are foced to live with people they don't like just for the sake of their horroscopes matching or their parents thinking that the partner is 'perfect', or WORST of all because he/she is of a marriageable age!!!! "Its societies requirements, those who don;t comply are not normal", said a very close family friend, who i thought, being in her thirties, would be understanding. It is only such attititude that spurs extra marital affairs, etc... The most conservative households have the most bizzare deviators.&lt;br /&gt;But who defines normal and ubnormal. Why should one be forced to live in a certain way. Doesn't the indian society pride itself of being progressive and flexible from time immemorial? We have suddnely become so rigid. Desperate to retain our "Culture". I think our culture is to be unique. How much ever we 'mordenise', we'll still be unique. So why not move on.&lt;br /&gt;Why can't people accept a girl in her late 20's enjoying her life, her independance, her career. Whats the necessity for her parents to feel guilty for not getting her married. If she finds someone she feels comfortable with, she'll marry, big deal. Who knows that she'll be happier if she gets married NOW.&lt;br /&gt;The same family friend said, people talk things and gossip. SO WHAT!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;I talk about other people, SO............................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't we be free to make a choice for ourselves?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-113044190862488422?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/113044190862488422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=113044190862488422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113044190862488422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/113044190862488422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/10/relationships.html' title='relationships.'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-112974887651167752</id><published>2005-10-19T11:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T12:07:56.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the green desert.</title><content type='html'>Am still soaking into the city , since i am back. Getting wet, and obviously bored. HAve to catch up on my assignments. Its been a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly realised that i am constantly smelling the scents around me, for no particular reason. I don't know if other people do it too, But i seem to be doing it all the time. And am constantly making mental notes about the smells. Like when i came back to dubai, i am constantly smelling and reminding myself unconsciously, this is how it used to be, or something like that. Pretty much like what i do when i listen to music , any kind, i am always choreographing steps for it in my mind, or at least dancing in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;Does any one else do it??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-112974887651167752?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/112974887651167752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=112974887651167752' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/112974887651167752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/112974887651167752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/10/green-desert.html' title='the green desert.'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-112963771115545553</id><published>2005-10-18T05:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T05:15:11.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>indian consulate</title><content type='html'>went to the indian consulate for the first time ever. HAve to go back tomorow in the morning at 8. Cant wait to see how things work inside. Not allowed to use cellphones inside the consulate!! Never knew that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-112963771115545553?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/112963771115545553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=112963771115545553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/112963771115545553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/112963771115545553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/10/indian-consulate.html' title='indian consulate'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-112962318876536978</id><published>2005-10-18T00:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T01:13:08.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>soaking into the desert</title><content type='html'>its the fourth day since i came back. Yesterday went hunting for a bookshelf. Have so much of books and design magazines to store.&lt;br /&gt;While i was going around shopping, a thought occured to me that its so strange that, the more cosmopolitan a city is, the more segregated the different nationalities become. They try harder to look their nationality. Of course it is not a 100% true statement. There are people who get influenced and change their look. I dont't know about other big cities but , but this one is surely a huge kichdi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;will write tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-112962318876536978?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/112962318876536978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=112962318876536978' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/112962318876536978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/112962318876536978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/10/soaking-into-desert.html' title='soaking into the desert'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-112940121638058889</id><published>2005-10-15T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-15T11:33:36.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>back home</title><content type='html'>It is such a strange feeling to be back to the city i have called home after having lived in it for only 2 years ( TWO YEARS !!! gone by so fast) . This was my first proper vacation ever. Almost 4 years since i spent more than a month with my family. The first 2 times i arrived in this city, it was with an expectation and hope for a job , a new life. The six months before my vacation was all excitement to go home. shopping and stuff. BUt now i dont know what to feel. I feel, what have i come back to. Feel like i have come back to a new city, yet everything seems familiar. Have never felt like this ever before. Missing my family for the first time ever in my life.&lt;br /&gt;Want to quit my job.&lt;br /&gt;Want a better life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wonder where i'll end up. Or should i wonder at all.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-112940121638058889?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/112940121638058889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=112940121638058889' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/112940121638058889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/112940121638058889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/10/back-home.html' title='back home'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17503785.post-112853825907706969</id><published>2005-10-05T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-05T11:50:59.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>me</title><content type='html'>color and colour.&lt;br /&gt;The rainbow is my colour&lt;br /&gt;The eyes see colour&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17503785-112853825907706969?l=desert-scorpio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/feeds/112853825907706969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17503785&amp;postID=112853825907706969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/112853825907706969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17503785/posts/default/112853825907706969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desert-scorpio.blogspot.com/2005/10/me.html' title='me'/><author><name>Sid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00240637170061115705</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1u-cdcIHfzo/SoNcsjANJwI/AAAAAAAAAEk/T2612E0nohs/S220/IMG_1753.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
