<?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-31949553</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:23:02.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'>its me</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31949553/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>sulekha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09208571421859172626</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>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31949553.post-5508091080106900423</id><published>2008-11-01T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T00:25:54.585-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The confusion continues..</title><content type='html'>A typical day since morning and Tanuja was feeling a little low..she did not really know the reason but somehow things were looking extremely confusing… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some old song was playing on the radio…this song sounded so good and hyped up last year.. it hardly appealed to her today.. she felt strange.. had the situation around her changed so much and was she forced to recognize this change and adapted herself to it so well..after all so well said . change is the only constant.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes life changes – she thought. One moves on with life..makes new friends…gets into more stronger relationships-friendships-professional changes …the highs in your career growth have perhaps taken a different route totally? The roads to home are the same but there is a zing in the step which takes you from and to your home differently? Is she happy that the canvas is now larger different and more vibrant? There are newer challenges, encouraging thoughts… more growth opportunities…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let the bygone be bygone – there was a small voice within her which has been been prompting her though – is it time to revisit the past and find out if there are certain changes she could have made to perhaps work on stronger bonds with people close to her…perhaps could have handled your professional life a little differently and would have been on a different professional platter all together? Could the personal front have been tackled a little less emotionally and more practically – would the portfolio have looked a little better or even worse….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanuja is confused......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31949553-5508091080106900423?l=sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/feeds/5508091080106900423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31949553&amp;postID=5508091080106900423' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31949553/posts/default/5508091080106900423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31949553/posts/default/5508091080106900423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/2008/11/typical-day-since-morning-when-you.html' title='The confusion continues..'/><author><name>sulekha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09208571421859172626</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-31949553.post-3754565685694432107</id><published>2008-08-17T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T10:01:22.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bond</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Natalie still remembers her first day in the school that summer about 10 years back. Her father had recently got transferred to this new place and she was forced to leave behind her old comfort zones and move on to this new bad world she thought. The last day at the old school had been a very emotional one and she had still her emotions swelling up her throat as she thought of that last day. Natalie had walked into the massive gate of the school - the car that had come to drop her seemed to have moved out so far off..her mom's hand waiving her goodbye almost could not be seen. .with a fear in her chest and a brave smile on her face, she had moved towards the assembly section. A large group of children in various age groups were huddled together busy chatting, giggling, quickly turning through some books but nobody had time for her. They had not noticed the new girl walking with the bag clutched in her hands desperately searching for a soulmate who would help her make the first day so much more comfortable...Suddenly Natalie had seen a girl in clutches moving towards her. Wearing an over size specatacles, this girl was carefully making her way towards Natalie. She too had a very bare smile and was hardly able to balance herself with her bag, her clutches and a large sized bag on her back. Natalie somehow felt herself moving towards her and suddenly there were in the midst of the school ground holding out their hands for each other. The girl smiled - said: "Hi I am Martha - I too have joined this school today - I believe you are Natalie - welcome"! Natalie knew she was the one person that her eyes had searched for ever since she had set her feet on the campus. Hand in hand they walked in, with Natalie holding Martha's bag along with hers.Almost 20 years later, Natalie and Martha today stand proud cherishing their old friendship. While Natalie is practises law , Martha runs her own playschool. They have been together through thick and thin, pain and cheer. They have made new friends moved ahead in life with their respective partners but they never forget to celebrate the day they first met each other in the school premises...two gawky teenagers who had no one but themselves to cling to when everything they had grown up with had been left behind...&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/31949553-3754565685694432107?l=sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/feeds/3754565685694432107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31949553&amp;postID=3754565685694432107' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31949553/posts/default/3754565685694432107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31949553/posts/default/3754565685694432107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/2008/08/bond.html' title='The Bond'/><author><name>sulekha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09208571421859172626</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-31949553.post-2580958596744681822</id><published>2008-01-12T07:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T01:35:53.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'>That Monday morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Leaving for office in a &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;crisp&lt;/span&gt; clothes was not something Marc always liked to do. But today was a special day. He had an agenda in mind today. Even though it was Monday, the day was relatively relaxed with lesser meetings schedules. He would do it today. The weekend was spent wondering whether we would actually able to muster his courage to do it. Spraying himself with an overdose of his favourite deodrant, Marc left for work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was among the first one to get into the car parking. The security guard gave him a strange smile but Marc was lost in his own world. Strapping his bag on the shoulder, he tentatively checked the contents of the bag. Yes he had carried it to the office. He moved towards the lift and then suddenly saw her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was at the far end of the porch wearing a stunning floral print outfit. She looked gorgeous and Marc took a deep breath. It had been a couple of months since she had joined his company. Soon they were begin work on a project together. He had really started liking her. They shared a good rapport and workplace had become off late very exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marc moved in her direction ignoring the gaping doors of the lift. He caught her eye and waved out to her. She too waved back and they moved towards each other. Within yards of each other, Marc was a little tensed. He brushed aside his pessimism and greeted her with an exuberant hello. She looked very happy and like always was smiling. Now they were facing each other and Marc touched his bag trying to open the flap. She brought forward her left hand and screamed "Hey dude, look at this, I just got engaged last evening"..........&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/31949553-2580958596744681822?l=sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/feeds/2580958596744681822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31949553&amp;postID=2580958596744681822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31949553/posts/default/2580958596744681822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31949553/posts/default/2580958596744681822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/2008/01/leaving-for-office-in-crisp-clothes-was.html' title='That Monday morning'/><author><name>sulekha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09208571421859172626</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-31949553.post-1478233592839171269</id><published>2007-11-06T01:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T01:24:29.949-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The "well-deserved" break!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She woke up that morning feeling very lethargic. The last week had been very hectic and she simply decided to take a break that day. The maid had not been coming for the last couple of days nursing her sick child at home. The cook had also disappeared since her daughter was getting married that week – all in all, Meera had had a very erratic schedule the whole of last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Packing off the daughter to school, Meera was ready for her relaxed day to begin. Her husband was on one of his long tours and was not expected till the next week. She called in sick at the office – she sat in front of the mirror and noticed some dark circles under the eyes. Let them be there today – it’s my day to just do nothing, she reminded herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meera cancelled the idea of taking a bath and the question of cooking never really crossed her mind. A call to the nearby hotel would ensure her a good lunch whenever she got really hungry. She remembered to put her phone on a silent mode. She went into her room; took the incomplete mystery thriller of many days into her hand and settled down. The popcorn next to her bed was all that she needed to take her through the next couple of hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly the door bell rang….Meera ignored it first hoping whoever was at the bell would think there is no one at home and go away. But it rang…persistently! With heavy feet and a heavy heart, she kept aside the book and went towards the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bell rang again……and she reluctantly opened the door. At the door was her husband....On seeing her, he simply asked “Surprised?”&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/31949553-1478233592839171269?l=sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/feeds/1478233592839171269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31949553&amp;postID=1478233592839171269' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31949553/posts/default/1478233592839171269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31949553/posts/default/1478233592839171269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/2007/11/she-woke-up-that-morning-feeling-very.html' title='The &quot;well-deserved&quot; break!'/><author><name>sulekha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09208571421859172626</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-31949553.post-3121459899866754033</id><published>2007-10-03T02:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T02:40:42.219-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It was a dark cloudy morning....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#99ffff;"&gt;It was September - the rains had poured all through the earlier day. Water poodles everywhere and a humid air prevailed. Walking down the street were two little kids, aged 7 and 9, on their way to their school. The girl, the elder of the two, had a serene expression on her face..some incident of last evening at home had left her twiddling her little fingers. The little boy was trying his best to match his steps with her. It was an arduous task for him and he barely managed. Their threadbare footwear were making things even more difficult for them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#99ffff;"&gt;The morning drizzle started and it was a matter of reaching the small school a kilometre away even faster. Suddenly from nowhere, a car whizzed past them. The car splashed water all over and within seconds, both the kids were drenched to the skin! A moment they looked at each other - a fear of missing school registering on their faces....but it vanished within a second. They looked at each other and their wet uniforms - another expression took over - it was sheer joy! Yipeee they screamed and began jumping in the muddy water! It was holiday for them and they sprang homewards! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31949553-3121459899866754033?l=sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/feeds/3121459899866754033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31949553&amp;postID=3121459899866754033' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31949553/posts/default/3121459899866754033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31949553/posts/default/3121459899866754033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/2007/10/it-was-dark-cloudy-morning.html' title='It was a dark cloudy morning....'/><author><name>sulekha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09208571421859172626</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-31949553.post-115435705908026008</id><published>2006-07-31T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T07:44:19.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hi Friends..Creating my blog....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31949553-115435705908026008?l=sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/feeds/115435705908026008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31949553&amp;postID=115435705908026008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31949553/posts/default/115435705908026008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31949553/posts/default/115435705908026008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sulekha-itsme.blogspot.com/2006/07/hi-friends.html' title=''/><author><name>sulekha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09208571421859172626</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></feed>
