<?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-8361495153216745147</id><updated>2012-02-15T23:29:58.486-08:00</updated><category term='friendship'/><title type='text'>anuja speaks</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>anuja speaks</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02207039883593803501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/TFnYtZpqMxI/AAAAAAAAAFk/cxP1_BGhKdQ/S220/anu3.1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8361495153216745147.post-6759251059392441691</id><published>2011-12-15T17:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T11:33:31.182-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><title type='text'>METAMORPHOSIS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pq8U9dADpqI/TuqiwkmWtFI/AAAAAAAAAGc/bGmCxe2fC1E/s1600/3%2BFriends%2B%2528www.cute-pictures.blogspot.com%2529.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pq8U9dADpqI/TuqiwkmWtFI/AAAAAAAAAGc/bGmCxe2fC1E/s320/3%2BFriends%2B%2528www.cute-pictures.blogspot.com%2529.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686536434850640978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was this flamboyant, enthusiastic and bipolar teenager, pampered by my friends and teachers from childhood. I spoke whatever I had in my mind, I behaved as I wanted and I still remember my mother warning me that I would lose it all because life was not supposed to provide me with those people throughout and those circumstances as well. Twenty one years of this staunch straight forwardness was not desired of me and everything changed when I left my people, my place and comfort zone back in my State and packed my strolley for my birth place, New Delhi.&lt;br /&gt;I turned twenty two just after thirteen days of my joining the institute and everything seemed to work out well, I hardly knew that I would be turned into a lifeless, depressed soul with no energy and enthusiasm at all. New bonds were established and broken within weeks, friends were made on the basis of background, looks, CAT percentile and I actually stood the tests thinking it to be otherwise, as it should have been [ethically], thus the longevity of such relationships was short lived. I spoke out my heart in front of people whom I expected to understand and clear out my issues but a web of more complicacies was woven and I was trapped. What do they get? Friends are one of the biggest strengths and your mirrors and yet people take this relationship for granted, what for? My nursery friends are still with me and yet it is so difficult for people staying inside the same campus, under the same roof, to live life happily. Manipulations, ego clash, tantrums, gossips, unhealthy competition, attention seeking !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I was never exposed to a world like this. Some ignored my condition, some empathized but I was lost some where, caught in the cob-web and  some how, I do feel I could have avoided it all had I been a little stronger, emotionally and little nonchalance could have served my purpose.&lt;br /&gt;Not that I did not find some worthy souls out here, but my stay for the next one and a half year at this place, makes me apprehensive. How much have I grown, how much have I learnt and how much have I Iost my own self, is still beyond my comprehension. Since my best friends call me a warrior, I shall fight. I might become a little stern but my heart shall always beat for my friends as it has always been ever since, May 15th’1993.   [pooja routray, jigni mishra, binoy sarangi, sulagna tripathy, sushree sahoo, laxmi, brahma, Krishna, saumyajeet, anand, abhay ,poonam,u people have seen me grow, loved me and cared for me, for sure I can never change for u people]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8361495153216745147-6759251059392441691?l=anujaspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/6759251059392441691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8361495153216745147&amp;postID=6759251059392441691' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/6759251059392441691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/6759251059392441691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/2011/12/metamorphosis.html' title='METAMORPHOSIS'/><author><name>anuja speaks</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02207039883593803501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/TFnYtZpqMxI/AAAAAAAAAFk/cxP1_BGhKdQ/S220/anu3.1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pq8U9dADpqI/TuqiwkmWtFI/AAAAAAAAAGc/bGmCxe2fC1E/s72-c/3%2BFriends%2B%2528www.cute-pictures.blogspot.com%2529.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8361495153216745147.post-3815993409607466313</id><published>2010-08-04T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T12:10:43.542-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE SOUL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/TFnXeRJlmgI/AAAAAAAAAFc/PFnacz7GK10/s1600/4651528-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/TFnXeRJlmgI/AAAAAAAAAFc/PFnacz7GK10/s320/4651528-lg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501665334809434626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I  woke  up in the morning but I was not in my bed, not even with my husband and &lt;br /&gt;moreover it was not my bedroom either. Trepidation  swept my thoughts, but for the first time my body did not sweat! I touched my body and did not find my glass bangles, my mangal sutra, my engagement and toe rings, it was upsetting. It was 6 o’ clock in the&lt;br /&gt;morning and I needed to get back to my home, to my husband, to my children and my in- laws. I could not  understand which way to take since the entire place where I was then was completely new to me. I finally found  the way back to my house after ten days of reckless endeavors. There was my husband with overgrown beard, my children were at home when they were supposed to be at school and my mother-in-law was busy with some pundits. Oh God ! my family seemed so helpless without me but there was some problem , they could not recognize me or rather notice me. It  was strange ! after an hour there started a gathering or something, that looked like a party because there was a canopy made of clothes, there were huge lights all around, there were some caterers and a lot of people.I wondered, how did my family manage to organize a party on such a large scale with no occasion around and in my absence, they could not even drink a glass of water. I became more confused. The party started and I found my husband to have  shaved his beard and cut his hair short and was wearing a white kurta and pyjama, my children were wearing the new dresses that I had bought for them last month. I thought it to be a surprise party arranged by my lovely family for me but why was not anyone able to notice me?I entered the verandah and found my photograph placed on a stool in the middle of the verandah. Some fresh garlands were wrapped around my photograph. It was the same photograph that  was sent for the approval of my in laws and my husband before my marriage was fixed. I realized, I was dead and it was my shradh !. I cried, I shouted,I screamed to make them feel my presence but in vain. I looked at my husband and there was no trace of remorse, he was speaking to the girl whom his aunt wanted him to marry, my children were playing merry-go round with other children and my mother-in law was busy escorting the guests to the dining hall. I looked around the place for the last time and walked away in silence because I existed no more, I am dead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8361495153216745147-3815993409607466313?l=anujaspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/3815993409607466313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8361495153216745147&amp;postID=3815993409607466313' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/3815993409607466313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/3815993409607466313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/2010/08/soul.html' title='THE SOUL'/><author><name>anuja speaks</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02207039883593803501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/TFnYtZpqMxI/AAAAAAAAAFk/cxP1_BGhKdQ/S220/anu3.1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/TFnXeRJlmgI/AAAAAAAAAFc/PFnacz7GK10/s72-c/4651528-lg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8361495153216745147.post-5365980551193191663</id><published>2010-03-27T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T00:22:03.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PRAYER ........</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/S65vRFvwmsI/AAAAAAAAAEU/cM7V3wKaeFY/s1600/bxp39360.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 221px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/S65vRFvwmsI/AAAAAAAAAEU/cM7V3wKaeFY/s320/bxp39360.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453418538183203522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to hindu mythology there are thirty three crores of gods and deities&lt;br /&gt;yet my country suffers so much .Why?&lt;br /&gt;We have atleast one god or godess who has a particular power ,for example a GOD can  cause rain&lt;br /&gt;or can prevent skin diseases  yet people die every day.HOW?&lt;br /&gt;I am not a pagan or an atheist because everyday I spend two hours worshipping and yes I do&lt;br /&gt;find solace and tranquility and sometimes a power to fight any odd but isn't it high time that people should start believing in themselves than blaming,begging GOD for each and every thing in their lives?I find devotees paying heavy donations in temples&lt;br /&gt;yet they can not feed a hungry man on road,adopt an orphan or pay for medical treatment of any poor person.Once my mother had said that when u worship GOD with some conditions and expectations then it will be termed as a business deal rather than an innocent prayer.People it is high time to do something for others and stop bribing THE ALMIGHTY ,he will surely help if you will be able to understand the meaning and power of true prayers and service.I swear HE exists and does everything that he can................all HE needs is devotion not donation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8361495153216745147-5365980551193191663?l=anujaspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/5365980551193191663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8361495153216745147&amp;postID=5365980551193191663' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/5365980551193191663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/5365980551193191663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/2010/03/prayer.html' title='PRAYER ........'/><author><name>anuja speaks</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02207039883593803501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/TFnYtZpqMxI/AAAAAAAAAFk/cxP1_BGhKdQ/S220/anu3.1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/S65vRFvwmsI/AAAAAAAAAEU/cM7V3wKaeFY/s72-c/bxp39360.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8361495153216745147.post-4032442138170986248</id><published>2009-06-04T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T06:11:27.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>KITE-Dedicated to the innocent souls of Afghanistan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/Sig2Oc23e_I/AAAAAAAAADM/080HHucyIz0/s1600-h/e7603d2c632f2f48.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 108px; height: 145px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/Sig2Oc23e_I/AAAAAAAAADM/080HHucyIz0/s320/e7603d2c632f2f48.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343580579767483378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That little boy on his roof top was flying me...trying all his skills and techniques..happy because his kite was on the top.Green and red with that blue tail.He broke his piggy-bank to buy all the paraphernalia required to make a kite...he gave birth to me.Suddenly I found myself flying in the wrong direction...in an undecided way as if my string was free from the hands of that little boy.I was moving in the direction of the wind.I looked down and i thought it was impossible.."please...someone stop those saboteurs in those green uniforms and arms and ammunition.What did the little boy do?He cannot harm anyone..look he brought me to this world..showed me the sky.Why are you killing him?"Before anyone could do anything my master was dead.The vibrant,expressive eyes had turned blue with reflection of the sky above.I got stuck to a tree near the house of my master's little friend, i thought he would recognize me but even he was dead.One by one everyone was killed in that place except the tree who had given me shelter in the bark.I soon realized  the world will become void  and there will be no kites in the sky.........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8361495153216745147-4032442138170986248?l=anujaspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/4032442138170986248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8361495153216745147&amp;postID=4032442138170986248' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/4032442138170986248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/4032442138170986248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/2009/06/kite.html' title='KITE-Dedicated to the innocent souls of Afghanistan'/><author><name>anuja speaks</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02207039883593803501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/TFnYtZpqMxI/AAAAAAAAAFk/cxP1_BGhKdQ/S220/anu3.1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/Sig2Oc23e_I/AAAAAAAAADM/080HHucyIz0/s72-c/e7603d2c632f2f48.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8361495153216745147.post-1206979523701349898</id><published>2009-01-22T11:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T11:32:19.478-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I AM BEAUTIFUL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/SgYAesYhzJI/AAAAAAAAAC8/YOdVe7xZAaM/s1600-h/Image143.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/SgYAesYhzJI/AAAAAAAAAC8/YOdVe7xZAaM/s200/Image143.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333951335977045138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conviction, yes I would like to start my experience with beauty with varied convictions .For some people beauty is physical appearance ,  for some it is character and for some it is material achievement. Though the conventional beauty is always physical yet there are some exceptions and I am one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I am beautiful  ,yes, but not the conventional type. To explain this I will go from phase to phase and from age to age. Different in looks from my goodlooking ,fair and intelligent siblings ,people treated me like an alien in the family, though my family fought every condemn to make &lt;br /&gt;me feel better but inside , my feelings grew from bad to worse .I was that tawny, thin and shy little girl who lacked confidence even to see her own reflection in the mirror.  As I grew older ,I realized that I have something, something definite in myself that makes people trust me, believe in me ,that day I realized beauty is beyond dictionaries and concepts and subjective and does not have one meaning attached to it. This increased my level of confidence and from that day the little, tawny and dark girl grew to be one of  the most successful public orators . I still remember the day when one of my professors did not allow me to participate in the intra-state debate competition just because she wanted a beautiful face to represent the college, thus I was replaced. God has to play his part, as he always does in my case and the poor contestant fell ill and I was sent again and I got the trophy back to the college's office after five years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Thousands of blemishes on my face ,did not stop me from ruling the world I  was staying in and that was because  I mocked  at the mirror everytime when I saw my own reflection, disagreeing to what I was seeing as I know I am beautiful .I developed such a personality that people automatically felt silent. At last in late teen I looked good though not beautiful and this time conventionally but I did not care anymore because I have so many virtues in myself that this man-made piece of polished surface that shows whatever told to it,is just a consolation for those who survive by chance in this world for their appearances,  thus it certainly ,has no right to pass judgment on  me. For everyone who feels, that she is not beautiful, let me remind you, you have a heart and brain, both much more important than your face, use them !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Yes I look beautiful when my achievements bring smiles on the faces of my family members, I look beautiful because I find my dear old friends standing by me, applauding for what I am today, they are the proof of my loyalty .Yes I am beautiful when I find myself overpowering others by my speech  ,yes I am beautiful when I bring smiles on the faces of the orphans whom I teach on weekends. I am beautiful and I shall always remain so because age and circumstances can never defeat me. I am beautiful from within and nobody can make me feel ugly till I want to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8361495153216745147-1206979523701349898?l=anujaspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/1206979523701349898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8361495153216745147&amp;postID=1206979523701349898' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/1206979523701349898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/1206979523701349898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-am-beautiful.html' title='I AM BEAUTIFUL'/><author><name>anuja speaks</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02207039883593803501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/TFnYtZpqMxI/AAAAAAAAAFk/cxP1_BGhKdQ/S220/anu3.1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/SgYAesYhzJI/AAAAAAAAAC8/YOdVe7xZAaM/s72-c/Image143.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8361495153216745147.post-8987777936422251368</id><published>2009-01-09T11:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T11:08:18.050-08:00</updated><title type='text'>mother</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why does she love me the most&lt;br /&gt;eventhough i am not the best of her children.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does she make me feel like a princess&lt;br /&gt;even though i am not......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do her prayers revolve around me&lt;br /&gt;even if she knows that someday i would leave her........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does she always give away her food to me&lt;br /&gt;even though she herself is hungry.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does she know what i feel&lt;br /&gt;even if i have not spoken to her......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May be i do not have all the answers&lt;br /&gt;to my questions..&lt;br /&gt;but one thing i am sure of&lt;br /&gt;that God's best creation is&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;MOTHER...........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8361495153216745147-8987777936422251368?l=anujaspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/8987777936422251368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8361495153216745147&amp;postID=8987777936422251368' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/8987777936422251368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/8987777936422251368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/2009/01/mother.html' title='mother'/><author><name>anuja speaks</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02207039883593803501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/TFnYtZpqMxI/AAAAAAAAAFk/cxP1_BGhKdQ/S220/anu3.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8361495153216745147.post-2640612606531757564</id><published>2008-09-22T13:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T00:43:21.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE LADY</title><content type='html'>The elegant lady, wearing a white saree with red border,stands there all the time witnessing everything that has been going on within the house and outside without divulging anything, she has&lt;br /&gt;been the perfect secret keeper of the family.Born in the year 1954,she is as young,fresh and vibrant as she was    54 years back.Uprooted from her original place to another new one,she didnot even complain  or cry.People said she was placed in the wrong side of the house and according to vastu she should be uprooted,dragged and again get planted in another place.WHY?The answer is she would bring prosperity and happiness if she is placed there.She is the one who gets drowned first when the flood water comes in.The water marks on her body revealing the decrease in the level of water, bringing  back life to normal.Wish i could bring her  upstairs and cover her with a blanket.She&lt;br /&gt;doesnot even bow down infront of the sun and pierces through it ,revealing the true power of a woman and the amount of patience she holds without forgetting her dignity.This lady is my"TULSI" and i will not call her a tree because she is the identity of my house.Like other deities&lt;br /&gt;she is never decorated with jewelleries or colourful attires,yet no offering to any god is complete without her.In the month of "kartik", my mother decorates the front portion of Tulsi with colours,depicting gods and other interesting things.That is the only time in a year when i see my Tulsi so happy and content.Neither anyone asks her to come inside nor does she expects it from anyone yet she stands outside bearing the perennial tortures caused by the nature.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8361495153216745147-2640612606531757564?l=anujaspeaks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/feeds/2640612606531757564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8361495153216745147&amp;postID=2640612606531757564' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/2640612606531757564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8361495153216745147/posts/default/2640612606531757564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anujaspeaks.blogspot.com/2008/09/lady.html' title='THE LADY'/><author><name>anuja speaks</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02207039883593803501</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_giF2UDlypQg/TFnYtZpqMxI/AAAAAAAAAFk/cxP1_BGhKdQ/S220/anu3.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry></feed>
