<?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-10107490</id><updated>2011-11-08T15:54:18.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Out Of The Ashes...</title><subtitle type='html'>This is a place i chose to express my thoughts to people... and to give myself a place in the world. The name is appropriate, i guess.... because poetry, i feel, rises out of the ashes of desire, of love and of emotions....</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-8125092073739532602</id><published>2007-08-27T22:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T22:54:10.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One last gift!</title><content type='html'>What would you say to a person who pleads with you to come into her life and blames you once you've done so..&lt;br /&gt;You feel shocked, ashamed, give her a long stare, try to collect your thoughts, pack your things, sigh and say good bye!&lt;br /&gt;You wish it were all a dream.. wondering "It's wonderful if a dream comes true, but is it possible for something true to become a dream?"&lt;br /&gt;Then you try and get up with your baggage.. stumble all through the path away from her.. and once when you know you need to take a turning and it is the last chance you've got to see her again.. you look back.. in vain hope of finding her look back at you.. but you realise that she wasn't to wait.. she wasn't to look back.. she wasn't to be there for you ever.. then what do you do?? As for me, I blame myself for having not been good enough for her.. and scribble my life in the sands of those paths and pray to God that one day she would come back on that path to find my scribblings telling her that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As you lay half awake&lt;br /&gt;Recollecting all those dreams that brought&lt;br /&gt;A smile on your sleeping face..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you lay half asleep&lt;br /&gt;Remembering all those events that brought&lt;br /&gt;A pride to your glowing eyes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even as dust of the footprints&lt;br /&gt;Of a gone-by life..&lt;br /&gt;Even as an illusion..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even as a nightmare..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....... Remember Me!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-8125092073739532602?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/8125092073739532602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=8125092073739532602' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/8125092073739532602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/8125092073739532602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2007/08/one-last-gift.html' title='One last gift!'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-5931706018747425723</id><published>2007-08-24T00:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T23:43:39.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and My Mistakes!</title><content type='html'>24-08-07 11:30 AM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twice in a day and thrice in a night at least&lt;br /&gt;Five men out of six feel so lonely.&lt;br /&gt;The sixth man, too, is lonely -&lt;br /&gt;Only, he sees the company of five loners like him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God, for He numbered me seven!&lt;br /&gt;Though I was born alone, I made friends since then.&lt;br /&gt;Every time I made a choice or I grew up&lt;br /&gt;I was always rewarded with a friend for life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I refused to learn things&lt;br /&gt;But wanted to understand them -&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I asked "Why" instead of "What" -&lt;br /&gt;God said, "Bravo! You made a friend!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I wanted to attempt things -&lt;br /&gt;When I couldn't stand simply watching -&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I stood up and shouted, "I can!" -&lt;br /&gt;People said, "Hurrah! He made a friend!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I refused to tell a lie -&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I refused to stop thinking -&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I said, "In my opinion.." -&lt;br /&gt;Everyone cheered - and yes, I made a friend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I said, "Yes, I love you!" -&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I said, "You are important!" -&lt;br /&gt;The only time I said, "But I need you!" -&lt;br /&gt;Somebody came along and I made a friend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here I am, abounding with friends&lt;br /&gt;For every time I made a choice, I made a friend.&lt;br /&gt;Friends for my life, Friends who haunt me -&lt;br /&gt;Friends we all are - Me and My Mistakes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-5931706018747425723?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/5931706018747425723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=5931706018747425723' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/5931706018747425723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/5931706018747425723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2007/08/me-and-my-mistakes.html' title='Me and My Mistakes!'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-8125753582706109907</id><published>2007-07-30T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T22:53:43.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Song Tagging.. or something like that</title><content type='html'>&lt;&gt;1. which song is being played in ur mind rite NOW!&lt;br /&gt;eduta neeve.. eda lona neeve... from film abhinandana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. one song that describes ur life.... &lt;em&gt;(no self made compositions please!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ok.. i think i will have to choose more than one.. (1) virinchi nai virachinchitini from sirivennela (2) aamani paadave hayi gaa from geetanjali (3) manasuna mansai from Dr. Chakravarthy (4) Mehfuz by Euphoria&lt;br /&gt;(5) nahin rakhta dil mein kuch by Lucky Ali&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. the song u listen to most on ur i-pod/ MP3/ cell/ PC/ etc&lt;br /&gt;Only you by AR Rehman from Vande mataram, Piya to se naina laage re, Mehfuz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. a song that describes best the foll stages in ur life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- school days... Rockin' Goa from DCH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- love : Kathagaa kalpanagaa (from vasantha kokila .. in hindi the same movie was sadma.. the song.. surmayee ankhiyon mein), tadap tadap ke from HDDCS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- friendship: Yaaron from Rockford by KK, and a monologue poem by prakash raj in the movie iddaru!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- ur mood rite now!!!&lt;br /&gt;         May be Maaeri by euphoria or tarali raadaa tane vasantham form rudra veena!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. your all time favorite song, nd the reason for it... mebbe some memory/ some funny story/etc!!!&lt;br /&gt;I think it has to be katha gaa kalpanagaaa from vasantha kokila... and you want memories why i love it?? go ahead and read my blog!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. a song u wish u hadn't heard!!! &lt;em&gt;(more than one is always a pleasure!!!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piya to se naina laage re.. for reasons beyond explanations!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. a song that would best describe..... the people i tagged&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(hey, i took pains to tag u, i guess i deserve this ;-) )&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sahithi - complicated (by avril lavigne), may be, this is remote from what i think of you buit still as close as it gets..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. (i jus cudn't miss this!!!) If, u were in an elevator with Himesh Reshammiya and Altaf Raja, you would..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(plz plz plz..... something funny!!!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;ideally, i would start a fight between them and hope that they kill each other..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;ok...ummm...i tag sahthi for now.. later we will see what can happen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;and if u dont know how to go about a TAG, here's how -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;-copy these qns and paste them on ur "create post" window&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;- ans these qns in the same post&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;-POST it (duh!!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;and yea, you can then choose to tag sumone else, or the person who tagged you, with same set of qns or new qns!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;ENJOY PEOPLE!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-8125753582706109907?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/8125753582706109907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=8125753582706109907' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/8125753582706109907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/8125753582706109907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2007/07/song-tagging-or-something-like-that.html' title='Song Tagging.. or something like that'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-891091686949976697</id><published>2007-06-23T00:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T06:28:19.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Burning in the Rain!</title><content type='html'>23-06-2007&lt;br /&gt;5:34 AM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's raining outside.&lt;br /&gt;It's raining tears outside.&lt;br /&gt;It's raining tears of a star outside.&lt;br /&gt;It's raining tears of a lonely star outside.&lt;br /&gt;It's raining tears of a lonely star searching for moon outside.&lt;br /&gt;It's raining tears of a lonely star searching for moon who was once with him outside.&lt;br /&gt;It's raining tears of a lonely star searching for moon who was once with him and now hidden behind clouds with another star outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know what the irony is?&lt;br /&gt;I smell something burning in this rain!&lt;br /&gt;What makes this irony natural? -&lt;br /&gt;I kept asking through the night.&lt;br /&gt;Life is the name of the game&lt;br /&gt;In which the loser is always right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It still didn't answer my question.&lt;br /&gt;So, I went out looking for the answer.&lt;br /&gt;I met a few things here and there.&lt;br /&gt;They didn't know what was burning.&lt;br /&gt;Then I met a rose by the road.&lt;br /&gt;She said she knew what was burning.&lt;br /&gt;She said every man here&lt;br /&gt;Has his star in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;When a man dies,&lt;br /&gt;His star burns.&lt;br /&gt;When a man cries,&lt;br /&gt;His star rains.&lt;br /&gt;And when a man dies crying,&lt;br /&gt;His heart burns in his star's rain!&lt;br /&gt;So, I asked - "Who is dying now?"&lt;br /&gt;She replied - "I am the rose you gave her last night!"&lt;br /&gt;Then I noticed the wetness in my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Then I noticed the weakness in my limbs.&lt;br /&gt;It was my heart that was burning.&lt;br /&gt;It was my star that was raining.&lt;br /&gt;It was raining tears of my star searching for moon who was once with him and now hidden behind clouds with another star outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know what the real irony is?&lt;br /&gt;There is only one fucking moon in the sky!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-891091686949976697?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/891091686949976697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=891091686949976697' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/891091686949976697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/891091686949976697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2007/06/burning-in-rain.html' title='Burning in the Rain!'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-3143721266336436715</id><published>2007-06-12T04:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T04:47:45.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Way out of Love!</title><content type='html'>12-06-2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brightness of this day hurts my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;The joy I felt only fuelled the pain of its absence.&lt;br /&gt;It is darkness that I pursue - marshes shall be my home.&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to find my way out of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My presence was not a celebration.&lt;br /&gt;I lost my right to celebrate hence.&lt;br /&gt;It is gloom that I so wishfully desire.&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to find my way out of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent my share of happiness too soon.&lt;br /&gt;Destiny has now run out of its blessings.&lt;br /&gt;I am weighing my empty destiny with my tears now.&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to find my way out of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so lonesome and so tragic here.&lt;br /&gt;I get stifled by the thought of loving and not to be loved.&lt;br /&gt;So, I seek the company and the love of the beasts outside.&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to find my way out of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrapped my soul in love and gave it up to her.&lt;br /&gt;I packed my heart in blood and threw it down the hill.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am lost in the tentacles of my own emotions.&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to find my way out of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am lost at a crossroads where all paths are named after her.&lt;br /&gt;I am lost in a world where there is only one direction - away from her.&lt;br /&gt;I am lost in a blinding forest with only one path to follow - loneliness.&lt;br /&gt;So, once and for all, through that loneliness, I am trying to find my way out of love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-3143721266336436715?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/3143721266336436715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=3143721266336436715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/3143721266336436715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/3143721266336436715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2007/06/way-out-of-love.html' title='Way out of Love!'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-2229973904020363489</id><published>2007-05-23T02:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T03:04:19.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My idea of love!</title><content type='html'>This tries to manifest my ideas of love..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: hihihihihi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: hihihihihihi&lt;br /&gt;ho gayi training?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: how's you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: i's fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: you got time?&lt;br /&gt;i wanna ask you something&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: please ask.&lt;br /&gt;i want to be asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: what does love manifest? - a right of necessity or a privilege of prize??&lt;br /&gt;i mean who should be loved more - a person who needs it and begs it.. or a person who's earned it and demands it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: unnaava?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: ya.&lt;br /&gt;who says tht a person who needs it begs and who earns it demands?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: i am just telling you that there are two people doing them.. it is a given fact.. now what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: 1 minute. just 1 minute&lt;br /&gt;maybe one who needs it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: i have to understand how it can be earned. then maybe i can justify.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: see... the love you show towards a person.. is yours that you are trying to give someone else as a token of your attachment to him and all thst is his.. it is a sign of utmost tribute you wish to pay him/her.. and who needs it doesn't know the value of what you are entrusting him with because he has not earned it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: look... i dont love navaneeta because she is this li'l girl who used to be depressed for a while despising her inactivity.. i love her because she is a prfound thinker who has established her credentials of being a wise thinker..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: okok&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: you've earned my respect and my tribute to you called love thanks to your musings.. your thoughts.. nto because you used to call me up and say i am feeling lonely or demotivated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: bratike vunnaavaa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: okay. so this love comes out of the person it is. frankly i just feel(random) that there is really no love sometimes. there is only a life and it goes on.but i wonder......&lt;br /&gt;you have to put up with my long brks because now there are ppl at home interrupting me in between.&lt;br /&gt;...........&lt;br /&gt;okay what's your question, i lost it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: love is there.. love is there as the ultimate form of expression of a person's own ego.. it should be a matter of my pride to say some X loves me and a matter of my privilege that i love some Y&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: yeah i guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: i dont love a person for his sake but for mine.. to establish my own worth that i am eligible to exchange affection with someone as great as X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: see....one who has earnded it i guess should get more of it than one who needs it, but he might as well be able to do without it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: thats exactly the paradox i am asking you&lt;br /&gt;one who earns doesnt need it.. one who needs it doesnt deserve it... so what should be our criterion of decision.. need or deserving?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: by wht you said some lines earlier, how could you give love at all  to someone who needs it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: exactly..&lt;br /&gt;we shouldnt right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: not shoudn't, but it may not come from you, thats all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: its like spoiling someone kada.. depriving them of the knowledge of how valuable the love they are getting&lt;br /&gt;its not righteous.. its more like bribing and pampering.. ovedoing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: you mean giving your love to someone needing it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: ya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: tht's impossible for you right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: matlab?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: bcause you just said it comes of the person's credentials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: ya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: but there are times when the persuasive skills of the beggar outlast your sense of reason and you make the mistake of giving the responsibility of your love to the less deserving... at the end of the you suffer and you ask yourself - was it wrong? and i need answers to such questions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: not wrong certainly.&lt;br /&gt;but why do you suffer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: because.. the person doesnt realise what you gave away in the name of love to her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: i guess it's not possible to live 100 pc by your reason . i wonder how you define mistake. but so long as you can justify li'l bit of whter u did, it's not a mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: now..  give somebody a most costly chocolate you obtained after much pain.. but the person doesnt really know the worth and throws it into teh dust bin after eating half of it.. now what do you feel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nav.027: too bad.  not to bad if it helped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: forget it&lt;br /&gt;i think i arrived at what i wanted to know&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-2229973904020363489?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/2229973904020363489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=2229973904020363489' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/2229973904020363489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/2229973904020363489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-idea-of-love.html' title='My idea of love!'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-1789224487717062387</id><published>2007-05-16T05:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T05:51:23.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There is this girl!</title><content type='html'>Claimer: This poem indeed reflects a trace of true incidents in the lives of real and living personalities who are mentioned in prose by my friend vikash in his blog in the post "majnu puran"!&lt;br /&gt;Ref: &lt;a href="http://vikashkablog.blogspot.com/2007/04/blog-post_24.html" target="_blank"&gt;http://vikashkablog.blogspot.com/2007/0&lt;wbr&gt;4/blog-post_24.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclaimer: This ain't autobiographical nor any close!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is this girl I want to talk about -&lt;br /&gt;A face I etched in my dreams and eyes.&lt;br /&gt;The one name I remember and shout out -&lt;br /&gt;She is my past and future - my life's prize!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No falling stars and no lightning skies -&lt;br /&gt;I met her as any guy meets any other girl.&lt;br /&gt;She was one of many an oyster that lies -&lt;br /&gt;Who was to tell me that she was even a pearl?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wasn't really pretty - nor any clever...&lt;br /&gt;She was a kid who had to grow up fast.&lt;br /&gt;"Just a kid!", I thought and friendship was over.&lt;br /&gt;Little did I know that it would change my past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was as cute as innocence could be.&lt;br /&gt;She was a world of happiness and love.&lt;br /&gt;She wanted to learn a lot from me.&lt;br /&gt;She was my fairychild sent from above!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I taught her all things - both dignity and dirt.&lt;br /&gt;Whenever she cried, I taught her to be brave.&lt;br /&gt;"Never let a person close enough to hurt" -&lt;br /&gt;This ultimate gift of truth of life I gave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was duty became my identity.&lt;br /&gt;I built all my world around her.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know when she said she loves me.&lt;br /&gt;I knew I was made for her and to serve her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was suddenly the most beautiful lady.&lt;br /&gt;She was my pride and my reason to live.&lt;br /&gt;I swore my life to see her smile and be happy.&lt;br /&gt;She was the only thing I knew and could ever love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prayed to every God to keep us together forever.&lt;br /&gt;She too promised to be with me for all time to come.&lt;br /&gt;She felt magic when I spoke and warmth when I held her.&lt;br /&gt;I saw my life in her smiles and my breath at her feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We used to walk all nights long - talking dreams.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to live to make each of hers true.&lt;br /&gt;We were the only two who existed in the world we built.&lt;br /&gt;We shared what was not possible between any other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was her servant, her friend and a father.&lt;br /&gt;She used to inspire, be my lover and a mother.&lt;br /&gt;She used to talk to cheer me when I was at my lowest.&lt;br /&gt;I used to wake to watch her go to sleep and kiss her feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was our garden of heaven&lt;br /&gt;We never wanted to get out of it.&lt;script&gt;&lt;!-- D(["mb","\u003cbr\&gt;It was was our world of magic - \u003cbr\&gt;We knew it would never break.\u003cbr\&gt;\u003cbr\&gt;It is the same girl I want to talk about now.\n\u003cbr\&gt;A person who despises every moment she spent with me.\u003cbr\&gt;A person who no longer remembers she loved me.\u003cbr\&gt;A person who no longer wishes to know I love her.\u003cbr\&gt;\u003cbr\&gt;Strange that she learnt my lessons too well.\u003cbr\&gt;She never let me close enough to hurt her.\n\u003cbr\&gt;She never let me close enough to be loved by her either.\u003cbr\&gt;Strange that I never learnt my own lessons at all!!\u003cbr\&gt;\u003cbr\&gt;Today I wander wondering what was my mistake?\u003cbr\&gt;Did I love her too much.. or trust her too much?\u003cbr\&gt;\nWhatever it may be, her point of view has changed - \u003cbr\&gt;Because she trusts and loves someone else.\u003cbr\&gt;\u003cbr\&gt;She says she was not happy with me nor felt magical.\u003cbr\&gt;She says I was depressing and never knew her dreams.\u003cbr\&gt;She says she moved on - she forgot me and doesn&amp;#39;t care.\n\u003cbr\&gt;She says I was just a prop to help her grow and love someone else.\u003cbr\&gt;\u003cbr\&gt;Today, I walk along those paths where we talked dreams\u003cbr\&gt;Wondering which one of them I did not encourage or add to.\u003cbr\&gt;Today, I walk along those paths she treaded.\n\u003cbr\&gt;Finding my own identity in the dust of her footprints.\u003cbr\&gt;\u003cbr\&gt;She walked away from me carrying my world I built for her.\u003cbr\&gt;Now, I am left with our memories when she told the lies of love.\u003cbr\&gt;So, I am trying to build a world of my own with what I have.\n\u003cbr\&gt;It is not my mistake that my world is full of her memories.\u003cbr\&gt;\u003cbr\&gt;Wishing her happiness wherever she goes, I watch her leave.\u003cbr\&gt;Wishing she would at least let me be her servant, I rot here.\u003cbr\&gt;Wishing I would wake up and find my fairychild with me, I sleep.\n\u003cbr\&gt;I am shouting, &amp;quot;I miss you!&amp;quot;, wishing she would at least look back at me.\u003cbr clear\u003d\"all\"\&gt;",1] );  //--&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was was our world of magic -&lt;br /&gt;We knew it would never break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the same girl I want to talk about now.&lt;br /&gt;A person who despises every moment she spent with me.&lt;br /&gt;A person who no longer remembers she loved me.&lt;br /&gt;A person who no longer wishes to know I love her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange that she learnt my lessons too well.&lt;br /&gt;She never let me close enough to hurt her.&lt;br /&gt;She never let me close enough to be loved by her either.&lt;br /&gt;Strange that I never learnt my own lessons at all!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I wander wondering what was my mistake?&lt;br /&gt;Did I love her too much.. or trust her too much?&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it may be, her point of view has changed -&lt;br /&gt;Because she trusts and loves someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She says she was not happy with me nor felt magical.&lt;br /&gt;She says I was depressing and never knew her dreams.&lt;br /&gt;She says she moved on - she forgot me and doesn't care.&lt;br /&gt;She says I was just a prop to help her grow and love someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I walk along those paths where we talked dreams&lt;br /&gt;Wondering which one of them I did not encourage or add to.&lt;br /&gt;Today, I walk along those paths she tread.&lt;br /&gt;Finding my own identity in the dust of her footprints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She walked away from me carrying my world I built for her.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am left with our memories when she told the lies of love.&lt;br /&gt;So, I am trying to build a world of my own with what I have.&lt;br /&gt;It is not my mistake that my world is full of her memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wishing her happiness wherever she goes, I watch her leave.&lt;br /&gt;Wishing she would at least let me be her servant, I rot here.&lt;br /&gt;Wishing I would wake up and find my fairychild with me, I sleep.&lt;br /&gt;I am shouting, "I miss you!", wishing she would at least look back at me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-1789224487717062387?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/1789224487717062387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=1789224487717062387' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/1789224487717062387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/1789224487717062387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2007/05/there-is-this-girl.html' title='There is this girl!'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-117569944270708723</id><published>2007-04-04T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T08:10:42.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am running away!</title><content type='html'>I am running into the sunset now&lt;br /&gt;In search of the dark on the other side.&lt;br /&gt;I am running, leaving my world behind.&lt;br /&gt;I am running, leaving love on the shelf!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For twenty years now, I collected figments.&lt;br /&gt;Figments of affection and lonely memories.&lt;br /&gt;I am running, leaving my memories behind.&lt;br /&gt;I am running from one half of my life to the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The autumn passed and spring set in.&lt;br /&gt;Blossoms of new ambitions arose.&lt;br /&gt;I am running, leaving my habits behind.&lt;br /&gt;I am running from what I regret to what I fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, a fairy came down to me.&lt;br /&gt;She loved me and she hated me.&lt;br /&gt;I am running, leaving my fairy behind.&lt;br /&gt;I am running away from my fairy and my fate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am running away, burning all that I ever had.&lt;br /&gt;I am running away, blaming all that I ever knew.&lt;br /&gt;I am running away, leaving the only hand that ever held me.&lt;br /&gt;I am running away, please don't try to find me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-117569944270708723?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/117569944270708723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=117569944270708723' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/117569944270708723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/117569944270708723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-am-running-away.html' title='I am running away!'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-115324991102918018</id><published>2006-07-18T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-19T13:41:21.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep by the Day!</title><content type='html'>Saying not a thing, singing not a song,&lt;br /&gt;For a past few moments short and long,&lt;br /&gt;I've been counting my days by the nights they follow.&lt;br /&gt;Days are my dreams now - false and hollow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For, far you have gone, farther than you really are.&lt;br /&gt;Only darkness I see has stretched that far.&lt;br /&gt;Through silence and stars I send love your way.&lt;br /&gt;So, I wake in the nights and sleep by the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been watching the moon slowly wane,&lt;br /&gt;Moaning and crawling in its celestial lane.&lt;br /&gt;It reminds me of brighter nights I knew -&lt;br /&gt;When I saw all those stars and the moon in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;||Ch||&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit and speak to stars all night,&lt;br /&gt;Listen to the dreams they see in sunlight.&lt;br /&gt;I remember those stories we shared and talked -&lt;br /&gt;Those streetlamps, footpaths and roads we walked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;||Ch||&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned to walk in nights, sore wind in my face.&lt;br /&gt;My existence and my life seem so out of place.&lt;br /&gt;I walk alone nowanights, waiting for you.&lt;br /&gt;Walk till feet gave away into dawn and dew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;||Ch|| - (2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey... This is such an appalling effort at writing lyrics for a dumb romantic pop song.. I mean.. ?I am no good at it.. just tried a hand at it.. well.. try reading it at least as a poem.. with the second stanza as the last :).. and ya, if by some unforeseen chance, someone likes this.. will he/she/they make a tune for this??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-115324991102918018?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/115324991102918018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=115324991102918018' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/115324991102918018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/115324991102918018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2006/07/sleep-by-day_18.html' title='Sleep by the Day!'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-114888586167975630</id><published>2006-05-28T23:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T23:57:41.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Midnight crap..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is a story of Love’s race against Life - a story of Life’s race against Fate. He was a king, a magician, a human, a preacher, a genius, a soldier, an animal, an artist, a miracle and a disaster. He was a lover, he was a loner and hence, he was a loser. Yes, this is a story of a loser who lost to win, actually, who kept losing to win. A king who had nothing to rule upon, not even his own Fate, a magician whose magic was making Sun rise in the East every morning, a human, for he walked on two and spoke, a preacher, for he walked with all and spoke on everything, a genius who discovered he can’t count stars after half a thousand futile attempts, a soldier who fought only shadows and never lost a duel, an animal whose instincts were strong enough to sense failure before effort, an artist who often coloured day in black, a miracle whose living itself was a happening, a disaster whose happening itself was his living. Yet, a lover who loved with all his heart, a loner who lived all by himself, and a loser who lost every moment he had. This is a story of Man’s race against his own Heart.&lt;/p&gt;  This is something I wrote waking up at around 4.30 AM from deep sleep.. It's a prelude to a dream I thought I saw in my sleep.. Hopefully, the story will actually be materialised into words and put up on my blog!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-114888586167975630?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/114888586167975630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=114888586167975630' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/114888586167975630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/114888586167975630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2006/05/midnight-crap.html' title='Midnight crap..'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-114876563676598328</id><published>2006-05-27T14:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-27T14:33:56.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Fairy Tale</title><content type='html'>It was a beautiful day like any other.&lt;br /&gt;Neither the sunshine seemed mine nor the weather.&lt;br /&gt;The clouds, the rain, the river, the flowers&lt;br /&gt;Everything was in the same boring colours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The birds sang those old songs of empty happiness.&lt;br /&gt;My voice drained out shouting silence and nonsense.&lt;br /&gt;When I looked above, I still thought I saw God.&lt;br /&gt;Life was still that same sniffle, that sigh and that nod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, miracle happened then - flowers seemed brighter.&lt;br /&gt;The Summer smelt of Spring - gone was that Winter.&lt;br /&gt;Angels danced for me. Fairies loved me.&lt;br /&gt;One of those Fairies came down and kissed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was more like living a happy life again.&lt;br /&gt;A repeated and refreshed joy in pain.&lt;br /&gt;I felt I outgrew Life - for once I was divine.&lt;br /&gt;Because the Fairy left God - she promised to be mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her voice filled in every sound - Her beauty showed in every colour.&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't hungry anymore, neither could I feel thirst ever.&lt;br /&gt;Fulfillment is the one word that best describes that life.&lt;br /&gt;It was a happy ending to my search and my strife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never dreamt again when she was with me.&lt;br /&gt;Life was that beautiful - dreams' importance I didn't see.&lt;br /&gt;She was still in my arms then. She still spoke to me alone.&lt;br /&gt;But darkness crept in under the covers of light - that night my Fairy was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could feel the hand of God, finally proving stronger than mine.&lt;br /&gt;The Fairy had to fly, still kept promising she was mine.&lt;br /&gt;We are still friends, she dances to me on the floors of heaven.&lt;br /&gt;Sudden surges of gloom, realising the difference of worlds inbetween.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, my day is grey like any other.&lt;br /&gt;Neither the darkness seems mine nor the weather.&lt;br /&gt;Still there lingers a tingle in my bosom.&lt;br /&gt;Fairies do happen. Flowers will again blossom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-114876563676598328?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/114876563676598328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=114876563676598328' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/114876563676598328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/114876563676598328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2006/05/my-fairy-tale.html' title='My Fairy Tale'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-114771718350293213</id><published>2006-05-15T11:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T11:19:43.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Google</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns="http://purl.org/atom/ns#"&gt;      &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;google is god!! its the biggest part of my comp life!! :* to google!&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-114771718350293213?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/114771718350293213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=114771718350293213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/114771718350293213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/114771718350293213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2006/05/google.html' title='Google'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-113547582151773834</id><published>2005-12-24T17:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T18:00:23.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This was for a Dance Drama....</title><content type='html'>Crime it is that we need to fight.&lt;br /&gt;To silence those shrieks in the middle of the night.&lt;br /&gt;Ten are stronger than one man's might.&lt;br /&gt;Join hands and strides to trample that path of fright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men wronged enough in all the histories they've known.&lt;br /&gt;It is time we paid for all the suffering begone.&lt;br /&gt;Battle the hatred and demolish the spite.&lt;br /&gt;Work in the dark tonight to wake up in a morning bright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are stones by hearing - not by heart!&lt;br /&gt;We speak only silence, speak through the art.&lt;br /&gt;Defeaned we are, muted by the God above.&lt;br /&gt;Yet we spread the truth in our language of love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually this poem is written as an invoice of a group of deaf and dumb people who are being trained to perform a dance drama depicting evil in the society.. especially crime against women.. and trying to spread the message of its eradication!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-113547582151773834?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/113547582151773834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=113547582151773834' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/113547582151773834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/113547582151773834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/12/this-was-for-dance-drama.html' title='This was for a Dance Drama....'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-113144277578574804</id><published>2005-11-08T01:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T13:16:04.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This one is just out of the way!</title><content type='html'>When I think of her,&lt;br /&gt;I see a monsoon when Lightning struck just once..&lt;br /&gt;And showers rained&lt;br /&gt;Smiles and sweet little feelings of friendship..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think of her,&lt;br /&gt;I see a Spring when blossomed just one Rose..&lt;br /&gt;But the fragrance spread wide&lt;br /&gt;In the stretch of time, and in the valley of my heart..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think of her,&lt;br /&gt;I look at the sky to know there is only one Moon&lt;br /&gt;But whose radiance fills&lt;br /&gt;The night with life for all pleasant times to come..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew I knew her&lt;br /&gt;When I knew of her first that day..&lt;br /&gt;And since that dream&lt;br /&gt;I always wanted to brave and say..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want that Lightning, that Rose to blossom again..&lt;br /&gt;I want another Moon in the sky, To meet her again..&lt;br /&gt;So that I can tell her that I always wanted to tell her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not once when I think of you&lt;br /&gt;Do you leave me with any choice&lt;br /&gt;Except to close my eyes, stretch my lips&lt;br /&gt;And say to myself, I love her all the more!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-113144277578574804?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/113144277578574804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=113144277578574804' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/113144277578574804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/113144277578574804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/11/this-one-is-just-out-of-way.html' title='This one is just out of the way!'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-112994375788099552</id><published>2005-10-22T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-21T18:15:57.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>May Be</title><content type='html'>Maybe the tears that I cry for you drench the greater part of me,&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I don't really miss you so much at all,&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the number of miles in sheep, could put Mighty Big Apple to sleep,&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I could have said what I did over the wall,&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'd fight and hurt myself, who knows even die for you,&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's what I'll say until the hour of Judgement befall,&lt;br /&gt;The only holy certainty is that I'll be proud I ever knew you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-112994375788099552?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/112994375788099552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=112994375788099552' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/112994375788099552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/112994375788099552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/10/may-be.html' title='May Be'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-112994371396182676</id><published>2005-10-22T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-21T18:15:14.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On Life, If I May..</title><content type='html'>Starting out with your eyes set low,&lt;br /&gt;Watching only the ground you tread,&lt;br /&gt;You toddled, looked, and leaped, to grow&lt;br /&gt;As far as this view of the road ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The road snakes on for an age and a half.&lt;br /&gt;(An age defined as life's two thirds!)&lt;br /&gt;Its every cobblestone's sound will staff&lt;br /&gt;Your very own factory of Wisdom's words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, to see the road so snake&lt;br /&gt;May serve to quite unsettle you.&lt;br /&gt;Wisely all breadth you choose to forsake&lt;br /&gt;For a narrower, constricted field of view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You reason when merely one dimension&lt;br /&gt;Is all the mind does care to know,&lt;br /&gt;Straight will appear even convolution,&lt;br /&gt;So only dead 'straight' will it ever go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So laterally it must first unlearn to see,&lt;br /&gt;Perception of breadth must fail on you.&lt;br /&gt;The crooked must cease to conceivably be.&lt;br /&gt;Then 'crooked' you can never perceivably do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what of barriers, arises the question,&lt;br /&gt;That one must strive to circumvent?&lt;br /&gt;Well, unidimension disallows circumvention,&lt;br /&gt;So batter instead, and they will relent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not ever a moment will see you resigned&lt;br /&gt;To a journey much cursed with monotonies.&lt;br /&gt;Dreams assorted will explore your mind,&lt;br /&gt;And dot its landscape with their colonies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attend to and provide for, responsibly you will,&lt;br /&gt;By priority if you must, or impartially if you choose.&lt;br /&gt;The path that you tread is singular still,&lt;br /&gt;The multitude is only in your choice of shoes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beliefs and attitudes all installed in place,&lt;br /&gt;Aims, objectives (and their opposites) in sight,&lt;br /&gt;You're raring to go, to win this one man race,&lt;br /&gt;A pawn unchallenged on checkered black and white.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much for all the planes they catch,&lt;br /&gt;No more for all the lies they tell.&lt;br /&gt;A hoot for all the schemes they hatch,&lt;br /&gt;And a half for all their souls that sell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But pause you must, to smell the flowers,&lt;br /&gt;To give in to Beauty's inescapable sway,&lt;br /&gt;And kneel, if needed, before higher powers.&lt;br /&gt;Then back on your feet and back on your way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you must the desired ends of your labours,&lt;br /&gt;And treasure as much every labour itself,&lt;br /&gt;Love enough, (your friends and your neighbours)&lt;br /&gt;To know there's a time to leave Love on the shelf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walk on, work on, your factory's profits will rocket,&lt;br /&gt;Tend on, your dreams will wing away into the night,&lt;br /&gt;Love on, till it swells beneath your left pocket,&lt;br /&gt;Pick on, till the flowers weigh down on your right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Race on, to the flag waving black checks on white,&lt;br /&gt;Live on, till it's time to call it a day,&lt;br /&gt;My child or my lover, or be who you might,&lt;br /&gt;I sell you my thoughts on life, if I may.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-112994371396182676?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/112994371396182676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=112994371396182676' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/112994371396182676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/112994371396182676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/10/on-life-if-i-may.html' title='On Life, If I May..'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-112994382299142163</id><published>2005-10-21T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-21T18:17:02.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In The Last Second Before I Died..</title><content type='html'>Eleven thirty seven twenty eight.&lt;br /&gt;The time shall haunt my Memory Ultimate.&lt;br /&gt;Soul's packed and ready, almost getting late,&lt;br /&gt;And now another memory to try and accommodate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what of this soul that I am so sure&lt;br /&gt;Sits waiting, pushing a button inside?&lt;br /&gt;The button to take it to a higher floor,&lt;br /&gt;While I rot with time and tide.&lt;br /&gt;And what of these floors in Salvation Towers,&lt;br /&gt;And those intermediate Judgement hours?&lt;br /&gt;To ever know if they're real, I must first be brave,&lt;br /&gt;Not waste my time, speculate, contemplate,&lt;br /&gt;(While my patience lay flat after a turn in its grave)&lt;br /&gt;Whether the board will reset after this impending checkmate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my beliefs I can surely&lt;br /&gt;At a better time question,&lt;br /&gt;Dig out, dust, and study&lt;br /&gt;In the daylight of reason,&lt;br /&gt;Than in this moment of half-misery,&lt;br /&gt;Half-peace, sunset, self-destruction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But must this really be the end?&lt;br /&gt;Does my suicidal mind really intend&lt;br /&gt;To finish what it started?&lt;br /&gt;This plan for the brave-hearted&lt;br /&gt;(Or is it cowardly) departure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this Death's hand that I wish to take in my right,&lt;br /&gt;And put to my head while I savour my last sight?&lt;br /&gt;Is it Death that I so impatiently&lt;br /&gt;Wish will become dear to me?&lt;br /&gt;Wait so I will, come when it might.&lt;br /&gt;The peace appears worth it. But will it be, certainly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To try is useless, or so it should seem,&lt;br /&gt;My life's purpose or its worth to redeem.&lt;br /&gt;So I shall reconcile, while I picture hopelessly&lt;br /&gt;The only miracle that can possibly save me -&lt;br /&gt;Towering over the scope of practicality,&lt;br /&gt;Dwarfed by the zero of probability.&lt;br /&gt;All while struggling in a storm at sea -&lt;br /&gt;The sad and sorry sea of reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one last time on my life I reflect -&lt;br /&gt;The story hardly unfolds but rather unwraps&lt;br /&gt;To reveal a collage - completely imperfect.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, imperfect at worst, ugly at best, perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;To everyone I've ever known and loved,&lt;br /&gt;(Though not love do my actions bespeak)&lt;br /&gt;The sun shall rise over one fool less,&lt;br /&gt;Your midst shall be cleansed of me. Goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;When you hear a shot, a thud, but no shriek,&lt;br /&gt;The time will be eleven thirty seven twenty ni..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-112994382299142163?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/112994382299142163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=112994382299142163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/112994382299142163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/112994382299142163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/10/in-last-second-before-i-died.html' title='In The Last Second Before I Died..'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-112466519876059929</id><published>2005-08-21T15:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-22T02:54:52.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Is On My Mind!</title><content type='html'>When I saw you last in the Rain,&lt;br /&gt;I saw you behind the curtains of drops...&lt;br /&gt;And you seemed purer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I saw you last during Snow,&lt;br /&gt;I saw your reflection in the bed of ice...&lt;br /&gt;And you seemed fairer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I saw you last in Spirng,&lt;br /&gt;I saw your smile flash on the faces of flowers...&lt;br /&gt;And you seemed brighter...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I see you now, in my dream,&lt;br /&gt;I see your soul safe inside the world of my heart...&lt;br /&gt;And you seem closer...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-112466519876059929?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/112466519876059929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=112466519876059929' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/112466519876059929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/112466519876059929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/08/love-is-on-my-mind.html' title='Love Is On My Mind!'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-112195690619252822</id><published>2005-07-21T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T13:09:05.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spheres To Stretch</title><content type='html'>Away from my home,&lt;br /&gt;I was lost in a world&lt;br /&gt;Where night is never known,&lt;br /&gt;Where sun is as cold&lt;br /&gt;As the moon and the stars,&lt;br /&gt;Where no man ever thought&lt;br /&gt;If the sky is really blue,&lt;br /&gt;If this life is really true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A place where&lt;br /&gt;I saw myself -&lt;br /&gt;Runing away from myself -&lt;br /&gt; To reach myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past dimming into future&lt;br /&gt;While the present watched over.&lt;br /&gt;The run strains my legs&lt;br /&gt;But the fatigue never let me stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew I had to pull over&lt;br /&gt;To look back and to breathe&lt;br /&gt;To know what I'm in for&lt;br /&gt;What I should run for&lt;br /&gt;What I should want, desire and dream of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even as I knew, I stopped and turned.&lt;br /&gt;A thousand new colours of life were learnt.&lt;br /&gt;Now I knew that&lt;br /&gt; Night was night&lt;br /&gt; And day was light&lt;br /&gt; And love should be loved&lt;br /&gt; And life should be lived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I can stop at my will&lt;br /&gt;And turn when I can&lt;br /&gt;   To know what I never knew,&lt;br /&gt;   To do what I could never do,&lt;br /&gt;   To hold what I could never reach,&lt;br /&gt;   To learn what I could never teach,&lt;br /&gt;   To see what I could never see&lt;br /&gt;And to be what I could never be!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-112195690619252822?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/112195690619252822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=112195690619252822' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/112195690619252822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/112195690619252822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/07/spheres-to-stretch.html' title='Spheres To Stretch'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-110613618077971629</id><published>2005-01-19T04:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-26T11:00:59.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Live As Myself</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;  It was dusk when I set off upon&lt;br /&gt;My journey through this world&lt;br /&gt;My first breath taught me the sweet lesson of pain - I cried.&lt;br /&gt;The darkness brought me sleep and dreams.&lt;br /&gt;The stillness shrieked the memories of my last life.&lt;br /&gt;The primordial instincts boiled hot in my tears.&lt;br /&gt;Memories faded as sights of a new life flooded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a perplexed purity of thought and an unmarred curiosity&lt;br /&gt;I took my first steps of life toward the realisation of void.&lt;br /&gt;The path has never been straight, it has not always been light.&lt;br /&gt;There was only one thing nice about being a kid -&lt;br /&gt;      Everyday was a new day.&lt;br /&gt;Every face I saw was a new friend.&lt;br /&gt;Every dream I had was a new fantasy.&lt;br /&gt;Every thought I had was a new habit.&lt;br /&gt;Every habit I made was a new history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to jump and roar,&lt;br /&gt;          I wanted to lie and sleep.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to be known,&lt;br /&gt;          I wanted to be left aloof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to do unimaginable things.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to create Divinity itself.&lt;br /&gt;But what is God - a friendless orphan?&lt;br /&gt;Divinity is a legacy of long-forgotten fables.&lt;br /&gt;I realised I was born to live life as a human -&lt;br /&gt;To cry, to laugh, to dream, to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a pulp of confounded interests&lt;br /&gt;Trying to obtain an immature stability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as the count of leaves falling grows&lt;br /&gt;I have a feeling I know what I want to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A life full of magic, full of wonders.&lt;br /&gt;A life where sorrow knows no meaning.&lt;br /&gt;A life when tides of time never swell.&lt;br /&gt;A life of undaunted freedom, of undisturbed harmony.&lt;br /&gt;A life worth a friend, a life for a love&lt;br /&gt;Is all that I want out of the share that I have.&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;br /&gt;I curse the pleasure that invalidates happiness.&lt;br /&gt;I damn the fortune that compromises love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I invite you, my friend, and myself&lt;br /&gt;To that world of mine...&lt;br /&gt;Where I rule and I serve....&lt;br /&gt;Where I LIVE and I LOVE....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-110613618077971629?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/110613618077971629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=110613618077971629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110613618077971629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110613618077971629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/01/to-live-as-myself.html' title='To Live As Myself'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-110556126239466260</id><published>2005-01-12T13:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T12:21:02.393-08:00</updated><title type='text'>As Sure As Tomorrow..</title><content type='html'>  Battling through the dreams of last night&lt;br /&gt; I set out to find a new glimpse at future.&lt;br /&gt; Finding its feet was an enigma, a fright&lt;br /&gt; Silhouetted against the lights of nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Life it was, overpoweringly monstrous it stood.&lt;br /&gt; Ill-groomed in a cape of red, blue and black.&lt;br /&gt; My eyes wore fear, tear and an anxious hood.&lt;br /&gt; I crossed myself thrice, on it I turned back.&lt;br /&gt; I beckoned to heart, I beckoned to will.&lt;br /&gt; And, lo, in a jiffy, Life sank to a dot-less nil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It was a dream, miserable, but it was a lesson.&lt;br /&gt; Nothing in life, not even Life itself, can harm you.&lt;br /&gt; Hope, believe and they will drown who frighten.&lt;br /&gt; So, hope in your smile, wipe off the eyes the dew.&lt;br /&gt; Live for tomorrow, the day you shall conquer.&lt;br /&gt; Masked by the ash is the fortune to prosper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Step forward; trust and believe in every cobblestone you tread.&lt;br /&gt; You shall, sure as tomorrow, succeed when day wears crimson red.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-110556126239466260?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/110556126239466260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=110556126239466260' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110556126239466260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110556126239466260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/01/as-sure-as-tomorrow.html' title='As Sure As Tomorrow..'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-110556116371307728</id><published>2005-01-12T13:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T12:19:23.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time's Here!</title><content type='html'>  Time's here, at last, for me to sing.&lt;br /&gt; Time's here, for the joys, back, to bring.&lt;br /&gt; Never did I confess that I do dream.&lt;br /&gt; But time's here, I guess, for past to redeem.&lt;br /&gt; Yes, time's here for all things nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I spoke not when I was best heard.&lt;br /&gt; I stuttered the little I said, I do swear.&lt;br /&gt; Crime it was, late I discovered,&lt;br /&gt; That haunts as a guilt no man can bear.&lt;br /&gt; I wonder how mercy was guilt's price&lt;br /&gt; As time's here for all things nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I hail from West, out of setting Sun's face.&lt;br /&gt; I've never done a thing right in all my life.&lt;br /&gt; I thought this life was a one man's race.&lt;br /&gt; Never did I smile, care or commit to strife.&lt;br /&gt; Not  realizing these thoughts can't purpose, suffice.&lt;br /&gt; Yet, goodness, time's here for all things nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; --"Wish you saw me cry last night.&lt;br /&gt; Hopeless, no tears falling.&lt;br /&gt; Alas, I can not cry, I thought.&lt;br /&gt; time here is not for crying, I heard".&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-110556116371307728?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/110556116371307728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=110556116371307728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110556116371307728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110556116371307728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/01/times-here.html' title='Time&apos;s Here!'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-110556096091239783</id><published>2005-01-12T13:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T12:16:00.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For You.....</title><content type='html'>  Rouge from the reddest of roses,&lt;br /&gt;    Grace of a jasmine bright,&lt;br /&gt;    Innocence of dew on grass --&lt;br /&gt;    Creation gathered to make your smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Shrills of a distant cuckoo,&lt;br /&gt;    Bass of the endless ocean,&lt;br /&gt;    Rhythm of showering drops&lt;br /&gt;    Added music to your gait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Robbed off Hypnos and Dionysus,&lt;br /&gt;    Blessed by seas and mountains&lt;br /&gt;    Of Utopia and Wonderland&lt;br /&gt;    Shall be the dreams of your sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Warmth of my blood from veins,&lt;br /&gt;    Affection from the bottom of my heart,&lt;br /&gt;    Service by my words and myself&lt;br /&gt;    Are brought to you by my love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    So, harken, my Angel :&lt;br /&gt;    " My love for you is nonetheless worthy&lt;br /&gt;      Than what Creation created for you". &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-110556096091239783?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/110556096091239783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=110556096091239783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110556096091239783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110556096091239783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/01/for-you.html' title='For You.....'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-110556090208182160</id><published>2005-01-12T13:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T12:15:02.080-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Created To Be Loved - !?</title><content type='html'>  Last night, I sat up in a dream - thoughts low-laid,&lt;br /&gt; Envying Endymion as he called to his Diana every night.&lt;br /&gt; I sighed, I cried, gaining weight in every move I made,&lt;br /&gt; Wishing to tell you - "I want to be with you at this moment, right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I sent the wind over to you, to deliver my wish.&lt;br /&gt; Methinks the wind was luckier, it flirted with your locks&lt;br /&gt; -To forget completely about the job it was to finish,&lt;br /&gt; -To make love to your hair, -to say Fortune mocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I then sent the clouds over, asking them to deliver.&lt;br /&gt; Methinks they too were lucky, they found the moon in your face&lt;br /&gt; -To blush at your sight, -to melt and to shower&lt;br /&gt; The tears of their love, of my wish was left no trace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I counted then upon the stars - one last trial I made.&lt;br /&gt; They too were blessed with two brighter sparks in your eyes.&lt;br /&gt; One made love to my stars, the other had, to itself, love made.&lt;br /&gt; My message was long lost making the swell in me rise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Just wondering if Creation created you to be loved,&lt;br /&gt; I set out myself to ask your heart for my wish -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Would you bless me, my Angel,&lt;br /&gt; Would you not love me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Would you smile to me, my Angel,&lt;br /&gt; Would you not be with me?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-110556090208182160?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/110556090208182160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=110556090208182160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110556090208182160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110556090208182160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/01/created-to-be-loved.html' title='Created To Be Loved - !?'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-110556015232795174</id><published>2005-01-12T13:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T12:02:32.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting For The Angel!</title><content type='html'>  When the dark of the night spread wild and far&lt;br /&gt; When the mourning moon unveiled shamelessly&lt;br /&gt; When the shadows of her dimples did, her beauty, mar&lt;br /&gt; When her naughty, innocent face showered magic on me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Lingering I was in a lazy, lousy world of thought&lt;br /&gt; Not feeling the sweetness of an apple that spoke to me.&lt;br /&gt; And when I heard the angel, the war was lost   unfought.&lt;br /&gt; Never I felt comforted after Fortune led Irony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Not one moment passed since, when I haven't felt the sting.&lt;br /&gt; Not one moment passed since, when I haven't cried of pain.&lt;br /&gt; Not one moment passed since, when I had no mourn to sing.&lt;br /&gt; Not one moment passed since, when I hoped not for the angel again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I felt her touch when wind, with me, philandered.&lt;br /&gt; I knew her voice when morning dew sang to me.&lt;br /&gt; "It is like I almost love her", I often wondered.&lt;br /&gt; Even though I knew I didn't, honest unmistakably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I sit now, waiting, under these clouds-white and dry&lt;br /&gt; The sounds of silence turning into music in my ears.&lt;br /&gt; Waiting, I did, for the times that passed by.&lt;br /&gt; Waiting, I shall do, for the coming countless years.&lt;br /&gt; Waiting, I shall do, till I meet my life's end.&lt;br /&gt; Waiting, I shall do, till I know the angel is my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-110556015232795174?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/110556015232795174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=110556015232795174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110556015232795174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110556015232795174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/01/waiting-for-angel.html' title='Waiting For The Angel!'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10107490.post-110555989578839438</id><published>2005-01-12T11:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T11:58:15.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>YOU - FRIEND!</title><content type='html'>  I move in an inner world, subjects being dreams.&lt;br /&gt; I move alone, in no company, riding into the twilight,&lt;br /&gt; Browsing through time, searching, of my life, ends and means&lt;br /&gt; At this hour when the red of horizon grows into night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Spotless Savannah stretched for years&lt;br /&gt; Till stars shone on a foliage-you-a friend.&lt;br /&gt; Is dusk an hour of defeat and tears&lt;br /&gt; When I realised and won-you-a friend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; My eyes now outshine the brightest aurora&lt;br /&gt; Thanks to the gleam put in by-you-a friend.&lt;br /&gt; My history now knows no box of Pandora&lt;br /&gt; Thanks to the joy brought in by-you-a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Aimless, a disgrace, I bore through life&lt;br /&gt; Till the moment I found you-a friend.&lt;br /&gt; I aspire now and work unto strife&lt;br /&gt; Till I know I deserve to call you my friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I wish to speak to you always-but end in a mime.&lt;br /&gt; Why do you steal my words, why my friend?&lt;br /&gt; I want to let you know that no stretch of land or time&lt;br /&gt; Can keep me away from knowing you, my friend.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; 	 &lt;hr noshade="noshade" size="1"&gt;    &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10107490-110555989578839438?l=pranuaryan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/feeds/110555989578839438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10107490&amp;postID=110555989578839438' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110555989578839438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10107490/posts/default/110555989578839438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pranuaryan.blogspot.com/2005/01/you-friend.html' title='YOU - FRIEND!'/><author><name>Praneeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15688732406408419499</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
