tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50887572923668463342024-03-13T06:35:43.100+00:00My VoiceAnuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-36887356684648924582012-12-11T00:20:00.001+00:002012-12-11T00:42:58.912+00:00The other side of the story!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This is the story of birth of a mother, well, almost most of the mothers. Some scrape through it easily. This is definitely my story. You would have seen photos in my facebook profile when my little one was born. A happy, smiling mother with her precious darling son. I was definitely happy, on cloud nine, but there is this other side of that story...</div>
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There were three more weeks to go, yet, on that Saturday morning I woke up startled with this excruciating pain and I just knew it. I called up the hospital and they asked me to take paracetamol. Yeah, are you serious? Paracetamol for labour pain?</div>
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Finally, by evening we head to the hospital. The mid-wife who examined me says I could go up to four to five days. No way!! We were sent back home and that night, I kept waking up every 15 minutes with this cry which eventually would wake up my husband who sat by my bedside and starts his duty of rubbing my back. And this went until 5 in the morning and after which I could take it no longer and we went back to hospital.</div>
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A god-sent angel midwife looked after me on Sunday. She promised she would break my waters artificially and have the baby on the very same day. Oh yes, she promised epidural too! Her decision helped speed up my labour and after receiving epidural, it was all good. My worried mother came straight from the airport to the labour ward only to find her daughter smiling and 'pushing' through the labour. And after an hour, it was the birth of the tiny little thing and he was put straight on my chest. Before tears could well up in my eyes, he started making funny faces at me! Bursts of laughter everywhere!</div>
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The real drama began then. They do not let your mother or husband stay at the hospital at night, the new mother and the baby were left all alone. And I realized, I was not prepared for our first time alone together, that too straight after the birth as T was born in the evening. This was the scariest bit of all! I was scared to sleep because you need to keep an eye on the newborn, and I was exhausted from 2 days of labour and sleeplessness. </div>
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After a day, T was diagnosed with high levels of newborn jaundice. He was put under lights and I stood helpless there when he cried and looked for comfort. I was not allowed to take him out other than his three hourly feeds which the nurse said should not last longer than 10 minutes. He remained under the lights for two more days. </div>
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End of it all? No, I was hit by Bells palsy, another consequence of pregnancy and childbirth. It was no good looking at the mirror everyday at your half-drooping face. Well, it resolved in four weeks time. </div>
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Blame it on hormones! I made the life hell for my parents, sister and husband for the following two months. My anger flared up instantly at anything which does not work my way, my OCD way! Worst of all, I hated when they said it's all hormones! Had not my mom and sister stayed here for two months, I would have struggled. A big thank you to all of you!!</div>
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I hate to keep my posts long, but could not help it. <b>Here is the final verdict - it was all worth it, trust me!</b><br />
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Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-78100969123675739482011-10-07T16:31:00.007+01:002011-10-23T15:30:32.483+01:00A word to those who have gone through it...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZE3RbgWIkbBoSex2OCjeofqdVJvxoLvfo7Tzb7jUiCRZyK0llCJ8ZpQq3iLTSQ56_MBnYYGRPjU1OzK6J7EVbvv9hdegt9BEikAQMKWNXz_AzjNtFzEVVIPbmLR0TxI1KVn9ZLIC5UPI/s1600/CSC_5077.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZE3RbgWIkbBoSex2OCjeofqdVJvxoLvfo7Tzb7jUiCRZyK0llCJ8ZpQq3iLTSQ56_MBnYYGRPjU1OzK6J7EVbvv9hdegt9BEikAQMKWNXz_AzjNtFzEVVIPbmLR0TxI1KVn9ZLIC5UPI/s400/CSC_5077.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666693747887609522" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I have always wanted to write about this for a long time. Now that I am a proud mother of a little boy, I guess this is the right time to write about it. I am normally not the kind who write about the most personal details of my life, but I need to write about it because there are many out there who have gone through the same trauma as what I went through 2 years back.<br /><br />Well, one of my friends back in India messaged me saying she suffered it too and asked me if I wanted to tell her anything about it as she knew I was once in the same situation as hers. It is for her and for all those who have gone through it. And I sincerely pray to God, that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">noone</span> goes through it.<br /><br />Miscarriage is the most common complication during pregnancy, and according to statistics, about 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriages. In my circle of friends here, there are about 5 out of 15 ladies who have had miscarriages in the past. And all of them have healthy children now.<br /><br />Yes, I was heart-broken for a while and still shudders at the thought of the whole experience. There are many out there who cares for me, and for them I put a straight face. I felt it was necessary to keep it aside so that it does not affect any of my relationships and live my life to the fullest. It's very essential not to feel frustrated.<br /><br />As soon as I miscarried, I went to the GP here who was not at all interested to give a reference to a specialist. He kept on emphasizing that it's common and said there's no need for further investigation. Well, it really angered me and I walked off from his clinic, all ready to file a complaint. As soon as I reached home, I got the call from my GP saying he will give the referral! I got myself checked, did all the possible blood tests which turned out all normal. I was quite aware that most of the miscarriages will have no known causes, still I wanted to be sure. Please follow your conscience, and if you feel who have to be checked, go ahead so that when you are pregnant the next time, you know there is nothing wrong with you or your hormones..<br /><br />My dad used to say all the time. <span style="font-style: italic;">"Keep aside all the negative thoughts and stay positive"</span>. I did. When I was carrying T, whenever I had bad cramps or whenever any negative thought crept in, I kept telling myself <span style="font-style: italic;">"It's all going to be fine, all your blood tests were normal, worry not"</span>. And I think it really helped me!<br /><br />It was in August 2009 when I lost my first child. Though I was just 8 weeks pregnant at that time, I clearly remember seeing a tiny-being flickering when I had an ultrasound scan at 6<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> week. Life starts very early on. With this post, I would like to spread another message to STOP ABORTION as well. As I hold onto my little one, I just want to say life is precious...<br /><br />Finally, have faith in God. He will answer all your prayers some fine day..And smile and stay positive!<br /></div>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-81093215060303012082010-08-18T22:43:00.022+01:002010-12-30T09:30:58.559+00:00A Trip to Remember...<div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Having seen few places around UK, my husband and I decided to explore few cities in Europe to mark our third year of marriage together. Despite Paris and Switzerland being our favourite destinations, we decided to settle in for Amsterdam simply because of good flight and hotel deals. However, we were totally oblivious of the amazing days we were to spend in this historic city.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Day 1:</span> It was sunny and bright and we loved it. Our hotel was just 15 minutes away from the airport. We checked in and were out in no time to enjoy the city. During our train journey from Schipol to Amsterdam city, to be honest, we were not at all impressed by the places we saw. “Alright, this might just be the outskirts of the city”, we thought; rather pacified ourselves. After reaching the city, we walked straight to Dam square. The first sight we saw was a Krishna temple right in the middle of the square. And, a Dutch guy doing bharatnatyam! After enjoying the hustle and bustle of the square, we decided to take a canal cruise. We started at a stop near Dam square, still apathetic with the old buildings around.<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxSWq2_RwK5IjUXpJnAlGrgH294cevnxB5L2ufxcgl2QpvGHpvs9d1vI2fzUG-ign4XdoRPRH3Hi85m5m4zKC9NRp8tgnmDZwueMxNcMHqCWiTvuc4BjNrtyjoNU0qEnD3PxZv0Z6jkrem/s1600/P1000183.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxSWq2_RwK5IjUXpJnAlGrgH294cevnxB5L2ufxcgl2QpvGHpvs9d1vI2fzUG-ign4XdoRPRH3Hi85m5m4zKC9NRp8tgnmDZwueMxNcMHqCWiTvuc4BjNrtyjoNU0qEnD3PxZv0Z6jkrem/s400/P1000183.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556254130668212466" border="0" /></a></span></p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" >Dam Square</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The cruise took us to several canals or <i style="">grachten </i>(in Dutch), which run through the heart of the city. We were awestruck by the beautiful cobbled streets that lay on either side of the canals and the narrow pristine buildings. It appears that there are number of people who live on boats (houseboats) along the canals due to shortage of houses in the city. The common narrow buildings are dated back to those days when owners had to pay taxes based on width of the house. The canals, buildings and streets added a special charm to the city. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span></div><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgueGf-pYz3qA3oxJHmrHC0VzcvI-kj3-skU_if8IKUP9cQcvqgn_6J3Y2forK9U56gSTxUyLGjDATMSGDZqTkFg3wyvRNMJPW2eawK50hzTfBqn8NIf3OAlb2RHnjh1zuANfdPo0iqq7T9/s1600/P1000260.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgueGf-pYz3qA3oxJHmrHC0VzcvI-kj3-skU_if8IKUP9cQcvqgn_6J3Y2forK9U56gSTxUyLGjDATMSGDZqTkFg3wyvRNMJPW2eawK50hzTfBqn8NIf3OAlb2RHnjh1zuANfdPo0iqq7T9/s400/P1000260.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556254648756152082" border="0" /></a></span></p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" >A House Boat</span></p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijd2E2b1JM1Zv_0jazmKmL8mXlj07_oOrLnqOJ44K60ws7rohZNeKpCCFfriAXvXnaxamrckZVumTBRNaC8A0dKbzfRv2ffu2Uzbjk_wB-gxJR4PwjogQCJhl8dETd3UoeFDwwJy2TZpmX/s1600/P1000280.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijd2E2b1JM1Zv_0jazmKmL8mXlj07_oOrLnqOJ44K60ws7rohZNeKpCCFfriAXvXnaxamrckZVumTBRNaC8A0dKbzfRv2ffu2Uzbjk_wB-gxJR4PwjogQCJhl8dETd3UoeFDwwJy2TZpmX/s400/P1000280.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556255563760552818" border="0" /></a></span></p><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" >Grachtens (Canals)<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The canal cruise changed our perspective about Amsterdam. We were mesmerised by the city. After the cruise, we decided to explore the city by foot. Amsterdam is a small city, meant to be seen by bike or on foot. We strolled through the streets, enjoying every minute of it. Finally, our hunger got the better of us and we decided to settle in for Spanish tapas in the most beautiful street along <i style="">Prinsengracht </i>(Prince’s Canal). We savoured on every dish that came our way; ending the day with a sense of contentment. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span></div></div> <div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijiqiX6Da6IaoYWusIHPeiffomIdd3JaVS6slvVOa7_KDIjwLCpds1Tq5_efBXTjxaSBWJLFkoqyHiTjiPv-BssLll3jZ7W-udhmJ4MeAkYYDDZdPEDOTkPdxEuihEKvBwnWYMmlAnGWaK/s1600/P1000387.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijiqiX6Da6IaoYWusIHPeiffomIdd3JaVS6slvVOa7_KDIjwLCpds1Tq5_efBXTjxaSBWJLFkoqyHiTjiPv-BssLll3jZ7W-udhmJ4MeAkYYDDZdPEDOTkPdxEuihEKvBwnWYMmlAnGWaK/s400/P1000387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556256093460394770" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Narrow Street along Prisengrachten<br /><br /></span></span></div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Day 2:</span> We began our day with the trip to Vincent Van Gogh museum. After waiting for two long hours, we finally entered the museum and must say, it was worth the wait. We simply loved the beautiful works by the painter and also got a glimpse of his life.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:100%;">We decided to walk through the streets of Amsterdam to the city centre from the museum. On the way, we stopped at several places like Vondel Park, the famous flower market in Singel and a busy square named Leidseplien.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I was purely fascinated by these arch-shaped windows.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunsjUP5RQEQyFxGXELNlKxwG0TLIrP95BJDhfkkkch_RBlKv1JPXfHKpUk7KkcSS54ISejdfj65u4etOd7OZsEjVN4oia6kcxrmf55-oA1i5NUh_PjA7JwcxDyrQ9qyHcGAtPGaF_tVCP/s1600/P1000466.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunsjUP5RQEQyFxGXELNlKxwG0TLIrP95BJDhfkkkch_RBlKv1JPXfHKpUk7KkcSS54ISejdfj65u4etOd7OZsEjVN4oia6kcxrmf55-oA1i5NUh_PjA7JwcxDyrQ9qyHcGAtPGaF_tVCP/s400/P1000466.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556246915236907282" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Without seeing a wind mill, a trip to Amsterdam would be never complete. Our final destination was the wind molen in the city. Picture perfect it was, set along a canal.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtg7moWxJS1NJ0ZYPsSgDD9sn6gnwqNgiFY9db17As7KkmN8y5GamgPncqaqDQgaeAO_YnE3pwlFEfQk30Qq8jo0hupYmfl4uqqX-aq1ehhze_YrfIWmB6PQ_cKTfGZkGl1EbLl98b6Yaa/s1600/P1000481.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtg7moWxJS1NJ0ZYPsSgDD9sn6gnwqNgiFY9db17As7KkmN8y5GamgPncqaqDQgaeAO_YnE3pwlFEfQk30Qq8jo0hupYmfl4uqqX-aq1ehhze_YrfIWmB6PQ_cKTfGZkGl1EbLl98b6Yaa/s400/P1000481.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556248367067109090" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The canals were more beautiful by night with lights adorned all over the bridges and streets.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik5q0GS3t6carOeqcsD_w1IJp0y14dYtWGyU3EW1dGF8C_OQFz0TlulVSthTkyW2sJ7xrTJ0SGGpOGJez1oIKTvlXp4B1VEIzsNguvc63SAKC988WX1ZreMtbnqbHC7zlqMm-O9vPfJ5Aa/s1600/P1000517.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik5q0GS3t6carOeqcsD_w1IJp0y14dYtWGyU3EW1dGF8C_OQFz0TlulVSthTkyW2sJ7xrTJ0SGGpOGJez1oIKTvlXp4B1VEIzsNguvc63SAKC988WX1ZreMtbnqbHC7zlqMm-O9vPfJ5Aa/s400/P1000517.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556248978516072322" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >It was indeed a trip to remember. Amsterdam has a unique historic and untouched charm. We would definitely go back, given a chance.</span><br /></p>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-10834414735471338752010-05-27T20:57:00.009+01:002010-05-27T21:48:11.446+01:00Food For Thought<div style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;" class="KtStoryHdl" id="KTStoryBox"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:100%;" >Here's an article in response to my previous post Who's to blame?, sent by my junior from college, Thomas Abraham. Thank you, Thomas, for sending this. It is quite common to hear mobile beeps all around you from the moment the flight lands. Quite disturbing when people do not comply with the safety regulations. We have these regulations for a reason..</span><br /></div><br /></div><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: justify;" class="ktblue9" id="KTSourcedate"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Switch Off That Mobile!</span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Thomas Dominic, Kuwait<br />26 May 2010,Khaleej Times Online</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="blkin10"></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:10pt;" >It's easy to blame the captain of the ill-fated AIr India Express for the tragic accident that occurred in Mangalore, since he is not there to defend his case. Also, one can blame the airline management for not maintaining the aircrafts.</span></div><p class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="margin: 13pt 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:10pt;" >However, I would request all the airline passengers to do an introspection of their role on board, and the readers to consider the following facts before handing over the death penalty. The state-of-the-art plane (B-737-800) was inducted on January 15, 2008. Hence, one cannot say that its conditions were so bad. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="margin: 13pt 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:10pt;" >Every day, 32 domestic and international flights operate from Mangalore airport. Hence, one cannot caregorically say that the airport or its runway were not safe for landing.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="margin: 13pt 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:10pt;" >Fifty three-year-old Captain Zlatko Glusica who died in the crash had 10,200 hours of flying experience and his licence had been endorsed by the Directorate of General of Civil Aviation, India. The commander had flown in and out of Mangalore airport at least 19 times, while the co-pilot had operated 66 times from the same airport. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="margin: 13pt 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:10pt;" >So the pilot and co-pilot were fully familiar with landing at Mangalore Airport, and therefore it’s not right to put the blame on the pilots. Further, the commander did not report any malfunction before landing, to the Air Traffic Control (ATC). </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoBodyText" style="margin: 13pt 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:10pt;" >Visibility at the airport on the day of the accident was six km, ‘which is more than that required’, when the ill-fated plane landed in Mangalore. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="margin: 13pt 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:10pt;" >So then, what could be the reason for this air crash? Possible malfunctioning of the navigational system during the landing process caused by a cell-phone switched on by an ignorant passenger?<span style=""> </span>I have noticed that many passengers switch on their mobile phones while landing as if they are in a race to inform their arrival. It is also possible that someone did not switch off the mobile phone while taking off from Dubai, despite being warned by the cabin crew, and it started searching for signals as the flight descended at Mangalore airport, which could have interfered with the functions of the landing system?</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="margin: 13pt 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:10pt;" >It should be noted that all three recent air crashes — the first one at Russia killing the Polish Prime Minister and his team, the second one at Libya last month and now Air India Express at Mangalore<span style=""> </span>— all occurred while trying to land, thereby strengthening my suspicion about the possible interference in the navigational system by cell phone signals.<span style=""> </span>Any takers? </span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ></span></p>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-13129140723054703982010-05-24T18:45:00.012+01:002010-05-24T21:40:31.410+01:00Who's to blame?<div style="text-align: justify;">Some disasters are destined to happen, nothing can avert it. Risk assessments may sound silly to some, but it does save lives to an extent. Deep down my heart, whatever might be the core reason for the recent Mangalore air crash, I feel it is largely due to the table-top runway that rest on top of a hilly terrain. A top official said "There have been no accidents in Mangalore airport till date, so cannot really blame the runway". Have they done a risk assessment for it? Have they considered a scenario if human error occurs, what are the chances of correcting it? If a plane overshoots the runway, can a disaster be prevented? There was a huge probability of a disaster to happen in this runway. A probability which turned into reality with 159 people on board perished at site.<br /><br />India can learn a lesson from UK in this regard, I would say. Being a risk analyst in marine field, I know how norms and regulations are kept and followed here. All companies in UK even have to manage and assess risks at workplace. I am not exaggerating when I say that they take care of little things such as an exposed cable in the office walkway that pose as a hazard to the employees. They assess it and correct it as soon as possible. They do not wait till an employee trips over that cable.<br /><br />By risk assessment, one cannot fully avert a disaster but can ofcourse minimise the degree of damage. Well, many lessons to be learnt from this mistake -a grave mistake which claimed 159 lives.<br /></div>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-82570010252617239282010-05-01T17:09:00.012+01:002010-05-01T18:39:19.021+01:00My Undying Passion!!!!<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhIzCWfc9GUkZ1W2mtlis4jFGSlaLxbaNBCiwUOFvsowIMLBHeD1dYEVcqoLNlfLPeD8Mdf67-OOCHWmxKUYwBCP2c8MwXb-XPZc2qMTbBO01Oi5t_Q4VEgdDhz94aKbzJChroy22aOoox/s1600/Untitled.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 198px; height: 146px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhIzCWfc9GUkZ1W2mtlis4jFGSlaLxbaNBCiwUOFvsowIMLBHeD1dYEVcqoLNlfLPeD8Mdf67-OOCHWmxKUYwBCP2c8MwXb-XPZc2qMTbBO01Oi5t_Q4VEgdDhz94aKbzJChroy22aOoox/s320/Untitled.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466341542939098434" border="0" /></a>Learning to drive has been one of my dreams since time immemorial. I was determined to take my driving license on the day I turn 18. However, I was in India doing my Engineering when I turned 18 and stayed in a hostel. Well, that did not matter since my father's home is just an hour away from hostel and I enrolled in a driving institute. Things were totally different when my classes began. My instructor used to pick me up from my home and the car was filled with her students. I hardly got any space to sit, let alone to drive. Out of an hour's class, I drove for only 10 minutes. Not to mention, the irritated instructor's constant rumblings!! Finally, I got my first driving license in India. Sadly enough, since I stayed in a hostel, I never got a chance to drive a car later.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">After completing my studies, I went back to UAE. Once again, I decided to take the license and with it, started the trauma of taking classes and giving tests. Tests in various forms; theory tests, hill tests, reverse tests, road tests; were nerve-wracking! The stern-faced traffic police did not help at all. Finally, the day arrived when I got my license. I was so elated; I distributed sweets to everyone around me.<br /><br />The fun started when I got to drive my father's car. I agree I was very careless and my sense of Geography was horrid. The very first time, I almost hit another car. There were times I took a wrong turn and ended up stranded in the horrible traffic in Sharjah and Dubai for hours! My parents and sister thought they kept their life at stake when I drive the car. And, they were on their toes constantly checking mirrors with me. Any nick on the car would have surely stopped my driving saga.<br /><br />I reached UK after my marriage. Again, I decided to hit the road and start the never-ending ordeal of getting the licence. With the license in my hands now, I can proudly say I learnt my biggest lesson - never go on a ride with your husband in the passenger's seat! If you want to enjoy the drive, go alone or you will end up fighting!<br /></div>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-42348147664257091222010-03-21T16:08:00.022+00:002010-04-22T10:23:03.398+01:00To Kill A Mockingbird<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHj_V6k_SK6jtsHpzMxNN6ARy9t0NohbhT57-N8UfCeGcb4WJqg9X43zYgxNPFneyh56-TBGC15u31idtXrtmqODvZvr3wg5AKpa_oteYFwDZ0wxV4JOftC-aNh6X5Fws7y2lqplIJJ3xk/s1600/To+Kill+Mockingbird.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 194px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHj_V6k_SK6jtsHpzMxNN6ARy9t0NohbhT57-N8UfCeGcb4WJqg9X43zYgxNPFneyh56-TBGC15u31idtXrtmqODvZvr3wg5AKpa_oteYFwDZ0wxV4JOftC-aNh6X5Fws7y2lqplIJJ3xk/s320/To+Kill+Mockingbird.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462629010412768402" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><name="progid" content="Word.Document"><name="generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><name="originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">During one lazy afternoon, I decided to google top 100 novels of all times. I opened two out of thousand search results Google had to offer. Both the surveys showed "<i>To Kill A Mockingbird</i>" by Harper Lee to be the No.1. I quickly made a note of the book and decided to grab a copy from the library. Weeks later, I had a chat with a good friend about our favourite books. Coincidentally, she recommended me to read the same novel and she had a copy too. Thus, began my journey into the life of Scout and Jem.</span></name="originator"></name="generator"></name="progid"></equiv="content-type"><br /></span></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />The story is set in 1930's in <st1:place st="on">Southern United States</st1:place> and explains the racial prejudices and various social stigmas prevalent in those times. The highlight of the novel is that it is envisioned through the eyes of two children - Scout and Jem. For this very reason, the book offers an element of innocence that makes one fall in love with its protagonists.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;" >Atticus Finch, father of Scout and Jem, is a leading attorney and is appointed to defend a black man charged with raping a white girl. The symbolic representation of the mockingbird is simply striking. This book is highly recommended. You will never be disappointed reading this novel. You will surely end up with a sense of content of having read a true classic. I guarantee!</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Nithin/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Nithin/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.png" alt="" /></div>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-84862168041000046512010-01-17T13:51:00.029+00:002010-08-23T14:37:29.335+01:00An aroma does it all...<div style="text-align: justify;">My husband's mom is from Kottayam, Kerala. So he wanted Kottayam fish curry yesterday. Demands, I must say. Since I relish fish curry in any form, I did not mind making any kind whatsoever. Moreover, it was much easier than the Trichur-style I usually make. Well, this is not a post about fish curries. While I was cooking yesterday, the aroma from a mix of turmeric powder in water brought waves of nostalgia of my childhood days. Strange since I have never felt so before. I was taken to one of my favourite places on Earth - my mom's home in Trichur, Kerala.<br /><br />Known as God's own country, her home literally lives up to the name. The gardens, the pond and the adjoining family temple completes it. The chirps and tweets of birds serve as nature's alarm beep. The only thing I hate is the loud radio which my grandmother switches on at 5.30 A.M for the <span style="font-style: italic;">suprabatham </span>(hymns in the morning) and the news that follow. On a positive note, I tend to wake up quite early. The soft morning breeze is filled with exotic fragrance of jasmine and chembakam (white plumeria flowers). Thanks to my grandmother who is fond of gardening and cultivation of vegetables and fruits.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />Our family temple, where we worship the serpent god, used to conduct <span style="font-style: italic;">pambumkalam</span> (a ritual). The ritual lasts for around three days. The temple and adjoining garden will be adorned with flowers. A <span style="font-style: italic;">pandal</span> (tent) will be put up, within which a <span style="font-style: italic;">kalam</span> will be prepared on the ground. A <span style="font-style: italic;">kalam </span>is a pictorial depiction of serpent god and goddess made exquisitely with different colours of powders such as rice powder and various other colour ingredients. The place will be filled with an aroma of these powders. The scent which still work wonders for me just like it did yesterday while cooking. I am sure my cousins would wholeheartedly agree.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsRzmibdGNVXOZPYlbrVLk7-97AuRFw_4qVKsdxCV2yksmN3NrjJqTPZ8E3gq82HGCCFHd3OAfJJumvamPQidl_wbmGRmDTDfi-yZJ0V0SmAJqtHO5p1PfXCi9cUNPNO-yrIui8ntT4w40/s1600-h/16043_186688691613_560081613_3874618_7387007_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428180523821591858" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsRzmibdGNVXOZPYlbrVLk7-97AuRFw_4qVKsdxCV2yksmN3NrjJqTPZ8E3gq82HGCCFHd3OAfJJumvamPQidl_wbmGRmDTDfi-yZJ0V0SmAJqtHO5p1PfXCi9cUNPNO-yrIui8ntT4w40/s400/16043_186688691613_560081613_3874618_7387007_n.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;">A Kalam</span></span><br /></div><br />A group of people,<span style="font-style: italic;"> pulluvar</span>, will be called to sing the hymns of serpent gods (<span style="font-style: italic;">pulluvanpaattu</span>). They use a handmade earthen pot as a musical instrument which sounds absolutely magical. The ritual consists of offering milk and lime to the serpents. Women who are entitled to perform the <span style="font-style: italic;">thullal</span> (dance) are made to sit in front of the <span style="font-style: italic;">kalam</span> and will be given coconut flowers. They get hypnotised by the hymns and perform a hysterical dance just like snakes. After which, they erase the <span style="font-style: italic;">kalam</span> with the help of coconut flowers. An incredible spectacle!<br /><br />It was indeed the time where all the cousins got together at our family home. We no longer conduct the ritual. The last time I attended the ritual was in 1995 or so. The memories are vague but the fun, laughter and long sleepless nights as the events unfold are treasured memoirs to be cherished forever. </div>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-6050795766664715472010-01-01T16:05:00.015+00:002010-01-04T13:32:44.791+00:00Another Decade Begins with 2010<div style="text-align: justify;">A very Happy New Year To All! It's the dawn of yet another decade. A decade ago, I was just 15 years old. There's an entry on Jan 1st 2000 in my diary. It's hilarious. It's me dreading the thought of the upcoming Class 10 board exams in March 2000. There were a list of resolutions like revising everyday, rising early (<span style="font-style: italic;">Have never adhered to that resolution till date)</span>, be aware of world problems, conserve wildlife!!<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">lol</span></span>!<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><span id="profile_status"><span id="status_text">It was a decade which bid farewell to school, college and many friends. And welcomed new life with many more friends, added members to the family, the "working woman" status and being a wife! Many more responsibilities than just cramming for board exams!! </span></span><br /><br />It amazed me that the end of the decade was marked by blue moon!! Well, not literally blue in colour, but it was the second full moon of the month that we witnessed on Dec 31, 2009. It is "once in a blue moon" phenomenon.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_R7AnLy4am3tZxdSm6RQssGRGVRa_CC2XtuBgV-CfMgUYFZpeU63BDuJZ942MCTsc0Ym20wH-TA53olvbZFhVpsl0n7aErF2GZdxg-_L1mY8wF2Dkd4GS6elypkYEgckMvuJb6tB-Xo7K/s1600-h/Photo0063.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_R7AnLy4am3tZxdSm6RQssGRGVRa_CC2XtuBgV-CfMgUYFZpeU63BDuJZ942MCTsc0Ym20wH-TA53olvbZFhVpsl0n7aErF2GZdxg-_L1mY8wF2Dkd4GS6elypkYEgckMvuJb6tB-Xo7K/s400/Photo0063.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422551568256143730" border="0" /></a>Here's hoping and wishing that 2010 and the years that follow bring joy and peace to the world. With a positive note, shall we move forward!<br /></div></div>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-6935669034634071602009-12-19T23:01:00.008+00:002009-12-21T12:37:08.918+00:00She wrote...<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">It's been five years. Those words are still imprinted in my heart. Neither do I know the person who wrote the letter nor the recipient personally. But that one rendezvous was enough to evoke their emotions and feeling of helplessness in me. We at times take life for granted, complaining at the life's most trivial matters.<br /><br />The recipient in this context is a mother of two, a son and daughter, who is paralysed and bedridden. She pointed this letter to me and asked me to read it for her. It was written by her daughter. She wrote....<br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Dear Mother,</span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Hope you are fine. I'm keeping well. Thinking about you all the time. Now doing my second year in Architecture. Life in hostel is good. I have many friends here. The subjects are difficult to study. I remember those days when I was a kid and you used to teach me. </span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">I really miss you.</span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Mother, as soon as I finish my studies, I will look for a job here. After I settle, I will bring you here to stay with me. I will look after you. I hope that day will come soon.</span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">I'm enclosing a photograph of mine taken with friends. </span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Forever yours. </span><br /><br />The letter was quite long but the above words are those which I remember clearly. Remember it because I nearly choked on those simple yet intense words. After years when I look back, I just hope and pray that she has kept her promise and the winds of change never blew her way. </div>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-89837490620718899412009-11-20T21:16:00.008+00:002009-12-20T20:47:09.963+00:00Sneak Peek Into My Journal<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">TGIF! Friday evenings are true bliss. Nothing beats the excitement and contentment of a much deserved weekend. I decided to leaf through my journal which I had started 10 years back. There were poems, short articles and even few daily entries of usual chores. It was fun reminiscing my life! The memoirs are mere humorous anecdotes when we think of it now!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">There was one such article which is worth sharing on a blog! It goes like this....with a bit of editing!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-decoration: underline;">Stroll down the memory lane</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Those lovely years have come to an end. Those years with bitter-sweet memories will be cherished forever. That carefree life as a teenager. And every word uttered by parents were termed conservative and orthodox! Long hours spent on phone calls and on internet were common complaints by all parents.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">School has always been the platform for heated discussions and debates on latest trends, books, movies and gossips. As usual, there were group of girls literally engrossed in their textbooks who were branded nerds and bookworms. Another clutter of girls chitchatting happily who considered school as a mere playground. But at the end of the day, the dreaded and much hyped up board exams made us maniacs!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Entering the engineering college was a dream come true. I loved the fact that I was enrolled through the entrance exams. Life in India was more realistic and practical quite contrary to that in the Gulf. The silver spoon had been taken away and "survival of the fittest" best described our life. Nevertheless, it affected positively on our personal development.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">We have now entered a world with new responsibilites to shoulder and experience the sweetness of the life yet to come.</span><br /></span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Life is a series of experiences with a wide array of lessons learnt. As a wife and a working woman now, I live a new phase of life with yet another set of challenges. But I still face life with the same smile and the zest as I did a decade ago!</span></span></span></div>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-91273134769933403982009-11-16T20:05:00.004+00:002009-12-19T12:01:59.129+00:00Go Rafting<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt85kvFzR0ZnVcREhciKd0n-97t6vVq2YWQPTfZR_pYTcWrKw7YfGS2TbzIoBldCly9FknyF8l_FgUnTYwxykP2y2lSeZiW7fhsWd8KPYIhmLqlUhznFoH6y24JC_HrB5g4j8rivjZuDJY/s1600-h/DSC05943.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415929649250247154" style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; width: 200px; cursor: pointer; height: 150px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt85kvFzR0ZnVcREhciKd0n-97t6vVq2YWQPTfZR_pYTcWrKw7YfGS2TbzIoBldCly9FknyF8l_FgUnTYwxykP2y2lSeZiW7fhsWd8KPYIhmLqlUhznFoH6y24JC_HrB5g4j8rivjZuDJY/s200/DSC05943.JPG" border="0" /></a>A touch of adventure makes a holiday more exciting and leaves trails of memories filled with fun. For this very reason, we decided to go rafting during our trip to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Aviemore</span>, Scotland. A sunny day it was, but cold as anticipated.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Aviemore</span>, situated within the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Cairngorm</span> National Park in the Scottish Highlands, offers a variety of outdoor activities. The place is beautifully set amidst the mountains and rivers flowing across it.<br /><br />River <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Spey</span>, the fastest flowing river in Scotland, makes it perfect for rafting. Since we were first timers, we did not go for the white water rafting. Instead we went for an easy river rafting accompanied by an expert who was kind enough to explain the basics of rafting. Rowing along the river, we were spellbound at the beauty of picturesque place around us. Blue waters and green landscape were a tantalizing treat to our eyes. The chirping of birds and murmur of the gushing water became music to our ears. If you are a nature lover, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Aviemore</span> is the place for you to be. I would definitely go back, but it will be crazy white water rafting next time! </div>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-15565944414919302892009-07-29T22:20:00.007+01:002009-12-07T13:55:23.752+00:00London Unravelled<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">During my parent's visit to Scotland, we decided to hit off to London for four days. After meticulous planning for nearly two months, we were ready to explore every nook and corner of London. However, on the first day of our trip, we learnt there's been a tube strike in London. Oh well, the planning goes down the drain! And yes, the strikes aren't exclusive to India! It happens in UK too!!<br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br />Despite a slight havoc at the airport to reach the hotel, we were able to stick to our itinerary. We had to spent extra bucks on black cabs and buses. On a positive note, we got the real outdoor flavor of London rather than burrowing underground!<br /></div><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Day 1: Westminster Abbey</span><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-xH9pGqsa1l0DZbyGG15bafdilcPAwx7Mc4KWTcQVmjLiWsuGbYK2Ut8cZXZ7oUkgQllTbNFggzd770k4oELcyZsC-xC2e3I60fwRAATQTx_3b26WtTCO_yF_Mlf8emSjEczS24f1brj_/s1600-h/DSC04829.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411115314147336946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-xH9pGqsa1l0DZbyGG15bafdilcPAwx7Mc4KWTcQVmjLiWsuGbYK2Ut8cZXZ7oUkgQllTbNFggzd770k4oELcyZsC-xC2e3I60fwRAATQTx_3b26WtTCO_yF_Mlf8emSjEczS24f1brj_/s400/DSC04829.JPG" border="0" /></a>Being an avid fan of <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">The Da Vinci Code,</span> I was thrilled to go into the abbey. Though factually incorrect and considered blasphemous by many, the book did attract tourists. As a confirmation for this, there were handful of curious onlookers at the tomb of Sir Isaac Newton. The abbey was magnificent with the high decorated roofs with stained glasses and paintings. A coronation church for many years, it is also a place where prominent figures in English history were buried or commemorated. The list starts from the royals (Henry III) to poets/writers (Charles Dickens, Alfred Tennyson) to scientists (Charles Darwin, Isaac Newton). Though we have been awed by their intelligence and talents over the years, it was immensely blissful to silently offer prayers at the place where they have been laid to rest.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Big Ben</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5-tFRhkZKQCo0qCHCBrY6YzZpUzqwQnCq63xNAMLyETOYhczCPF05HUNBQzOvrn_yd4WCPQBAb6hsSn43zkXx-oTKc5d5jFBtdKPEO8FzIcJftshpCiduJl7-1OIeKRZhEaA0LXKXiYEF/s1600-h/DSC04842.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411131815362523058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5-tFRhkZKQCo0qCHCBrY6YzZpUzqwQnCq63xNAMLyETOYhczCPF05HUNBQzOvrn_yd4WCPQBAb6hsSn43zkXx-oTKc5d5jFBtdKPEO8FzIcJftshpCiduJl7-1OIeKRZhEaA0LXKXiYEF/s400/DSC04842.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Being London's best known landmarks, it is the world's third largest free-standing clock.<br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"><br />Downing Street</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkNMmEHsaFJoLFq7dNX5KZQ_vvrdIQN4gilf1DDsLbULFE6_jEPbaYe2_un9EoOh_zwTqss9aooYIJAfE3MtupI9nSksiWyXkB-SY61w44N4SiTm7po4vPaEqxKbx2dK6d3jtjuMYsi2uq/s1600-h/DSC04864.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411133340861264066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkNMmEHsaFJoLFq7dNX5KZQ_vvrdIQN4gilf1DDsLbULFE6_jEPbaYe2_un9EoOh_zwTqss9aooYIJAfE3MtupI9nSksiWyXkB-SY61w44N4SiTm7po4vPaEqxKbx2dK6d3jtjuMYsi2uq/s400/DSC04864.JPG" border="0" /></a>No 10 Downing Street, probably the most recognised address in the world, is the official residence and office of the Prime Minister.<br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"><br />Nelson's Column - Trafalgar Square</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK8pv_3ZeSdz2JnBR8AJpLzGWwadt3yHx8cbtG5NvqbJ1IpaNvaiBg5wkQ80o_a5r7r-jCAYjOejOqryaC94eeFN4EpSMZMIuFG8e9cenHUP5MAAr0y5WLZQh5w_Lc2l165xMfoCICvlSx/s1600-h/DSC04879.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411137045660751666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK8pv_3ZeSdz2JnBR8AJpLzGWwadt3yHx8cbtG5NvqbJ1IpaNvaiBg5wkQ80o_a5r7r-jCAYjOejOqryaC94eeFN4EpSMZMIuFG8e9cenHUP5MAAr0y5WLZQh5w_Lc2l165xMfoCICvlSx/s400/DSC04879.JPG" border="0" /></a>It was a unique experience to sit in the square and enjoy the hustle bustle of the London city.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Day 2: Madame Tussuad's</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKJYLFThjzLC-QCqaJWs98-sslH2BGC3I2mbUR7Mo4J_ABlJ7upJYRP_h761_R4WgzNouRXfFl1f-H6kbiH4qm96oCfQ0es5Pn81GN9WiWoyX0aO6TIIxbENEvOEsFvRWMKs4nW3H4xsqr/s1600-h/DSC01350.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411138771153634514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKJYLFThjzLC-QCqaJWs98-sslH2BGC3I2mbUR7Mo4J_ABlJ7upJYRP_h761_R4WgzNouRXfFl1f-H6kbiH4qm96oCfQ0es5Pn81GN9WiWoyX0aO6TIIxbENEvOEsFvRWMKs4nW3H4xsqr/s400/DSC01350.JPG" border="0" /></a>It's London's most famous attraction - the land of wax models. We had a gala time posing with our favourite celebrities. There was also a tour on wax modelling which was quite informative.<br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"><br />Sherlock Holmes</span><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2MWdxM6QA3yP2aJTMiZ-tYIj05Gg57lmXeR-CnLsG-UGyY2d3e8hSl1cxpUQuBl_MHw-40dlYlr7R9CXAVBeOh3PCYAtSoNqjIXBoNe8pUFYheOkD0eLF8RDamcOVQfqsfYRIYr7FQnwh/s1600-h/DSC05086.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411141991667682034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2MWdxM6QA3yP2aJTMiZ-tYIj05Gg57lmXeR-CnLsG-UGyY2d3e8hSl1cxpUQuBl_MHw-40dlYlr7R9CXAVBeOh3PCYAtSoNqjIXBoNe8pUFYheOkD0eLF8RDamcOVQfqsfYRIYr7FQnwh/s400/DSC05086.JPG" border="0" /></a>221b Baker Street - residence to fictional detective Sherlock Holmes.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Canary Wharf</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukVuY_Rcedjc2AJ0bDMqVpTI8GO6VaKhq33woqbsyfeMHpEAuoa86xMS-H9e0DFUTNCMGLSrhtcKGouQTJUk9co696OrJxb0L4f6HczJRaTAlnCxZ8ypkgQZVEgBDk3lJ-Gl3ZH6INFKi/s1600-h/DSC05097.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411144533061015570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 321px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukVuY_Rcedjc2AJ0bDMqVpTI8GO6VaKhq33woqbsyfeMHpEAuoa86xMS-H9e0DFUTNCMGLSrhtcKGouQTJUk9co696OrJxb0L4f6HczJRaTAlnCxZ8ypkgQZVEgBDk3lJ-Gl3ZH6INFKi/s400/DSC05097.JPG" border="0" /></a>Quite different from the Victorian London, Canary Wharf with its modern and sophisticated buildings gave a cosmopolitan touch to the city.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Lord's Cricket Ground</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIvkTW1wMbtX19qtkQKTA7sE16rzHxSXcvMQgatf_LReSAhyjee3nQDD4XsRJOC7OpaywFSIFBaOqVHIyeLJgLSCVVJi9eCR77nXq8QqZBQvCY4eCTPmg3BS_YepM-pqo6BUIpjh3Mnxy8/s1600-h/DSC05142.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411145555165113474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIvkTW1wMbtX19qtkQKTA7sE16rzHxSXcvMQgatf_LReSAhyjee3nQDD4XsRJOC7OpaywFSIFBaOqVHIyeLJgLSCVVJi9eCR77nXq8QqZBQvCY4eCTPmg3BS_YepM-pqo6BUIpjh3Mnxy8/s400/DSC05142.JPG" border="0" /></a>We, Indians, worship cricket. Our trip would have been incomplete without a tour to Lord's ground especially when India had its match on the day! Unfortunately we couldn't get the tickets and India lost royally to its opponents.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Greenwich</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw9I5Re7DgZ8AukQlNSUAakJ1sGq3UbY0zSrQERBcrLhhxIZZ9PV2ZpDsYkzrjbap9hJqMUFyOQI_cXsUBHiJRfgnOyZrvRNxSt6EKh_MDIEi96Dr-tp49IcEosAakOWX6y_ET4B_A5Ivt/s1600-h/DSC02106.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411147241139741090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw9I5Re7DgZ8AukQlNSUAakJ1sGq3UbY0zSrQERBcrLhhxIZZ9PV2ZpDsYkzrjbap9hJqMUFyOQI_cXsUBHiJRfgnOyZrvRNxSt6EKh_MDIEi96Dr-tp49IcEosAakOWX6y_ET4B_A5Ivt/s400/DSC02106.JPG" border="0" /></a>Going back to your school days, you would remember your Geography teacher explaining the Prime Meridian - the imaginary line which separates eastern and western hemisphere.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">London Eye</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnDVkH57DdP2Kju0-8NJwKf_wGjDkUj4mk_2c39-58XKoNlpo_VLgIz8lVUWTTNlngDZb5LOG6IkOU8rdETdyueVYo_2bNMmlx23nQFyDDTFslEOE231ynoCPxB3V4AC6jg7155dm06IY/s1600-h/DSC04853.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411475349986991058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnDVkH57DdP2Kju0-8NJwKf_wGjDkUj4mk_2c39-58XKoNlpo_VLgIz8lVUWTTNlngDZb5LOG6IkOU8rdETdyueVYo_2bNMmlx23nQFyDDTFslEOE231ynoCPxB3V4AC6jg7155dm06IY/s400/DSC04853.JPG" border="0" /></a>London eye, situated at the heart of the city, gives a panoramic view of London.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Day 3 St. Paul's Cathedral</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3E3U4oJOFJut4T4S01zkTLjaP6Uf3k0JCQqNoKJUAbuK53wX_8GL8RO7SxoX2jyZBJAHM22w1SlnAoKeHJDb8OyBqn6EeEBATxXJny_Kb6-VrtZCbqRheS9BAkGcvuhyphenhyphenXZpU6nEHE_jnE/s1600-h/DSC05187.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411477443598490722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3E3U4oJOFJut4T4S01zkTLjaP6Uf3k0JCQqNoKJUAbuK53wX_8GL8RO7SxoX2jyZBJAHM22w1SlnAoKeHJDb8OyBqn6EeEBATxXJny_Kb6-VrtZCbqRheS9BAkGcvuhyphenhyphenXZpU6nEHE_jnE/s400/DSC05187.JPG" border="0" /></a>It was the venue of the royal wedding of Prince Charles and Princess Diana. The church had an aura of tranquility. The walls were oblivious to the chaotic world outside.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Museum of London</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMmt2bU7CpTopAjYBYdQafeqN4J_BCg2SAk9gqJgHvLklq4Pi58GTicSlRed-aDwOqzP6fIueuAxp05uIhNTbaWVk52lxCSuvhAWSJEi21rm060tNgVDl2MTmisG0lqTWMBSa1HJSk16Wy/s1600-h/DSC05216.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411480686698751442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 270px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMmt2bU7CpTopAjYBYdQafeqN4J_BCg2SAk9gqJgHvLklq4Pi58GTicSlRed-aDwOqzP6fIueuAxp05uIhNTbaWVk52lxCSuvhAWSJEi21rm060tNgVDl2MTmisG0lqTWMBSa1HJSk16Wy/s400/DSC05216.JPG" border="0" /></a>This museum documents the history of London from the prehistoric times to plaque hit city to burning London to the modern city it is today.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Tower Bridge</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2NrRIR6S1VcHxEZAxYaRPDpISIfAVsTiO2qa07d_ll6OTybwSWrn8i_rD1JjbFRVfIqmxMK-ImcF2PS8ye_ODJnpKw9tbd0UcTAh03yqVX-ysg_iA-b2Tx768m-Pyn4Oj9LvJgQo3V0jr/s1600-h/DSC05259.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411482238244932642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2NrRIR6S1VcHxEZAxYaRPDpISIfAVsTiO2qa07d_ll6OTybwSWrn8i_rD1JjbFRVfIqmxMK-ImcF2PS8ye_ODJnpKw9tbd0UcTAh03yqVX-ysg_iA-b2Tx768m-Pyn4Oj9LvJgQo3V0jr/s400/DSC05259.JPG" border="0" /></a>Now who would want to miss the tower bridge? Undoubtedly an iconic symbol of London which you would find in every Bollywood movie possible!<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Platform 9 </span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">3/4</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifiIsjvFULym5YEqoUVK8HTjcu1rib9gc4xwnhyphenhyphenQDfrPgjCkNC-e-OFfpEgZyWlHJ49NVkUxDqzaNqI3KK1dzc-mNtASmi1FstwjP4nJVNebpxAFi1bP8WF2r1RM0PwyZtulDsPIpFJee0/s1600-h/DSC05306.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411483475161453890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 294px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifiIsjvFULym5YEqoUVK8HTjcu1rib9gc4xwnhyphenhyphenQDfrPgjCkNC-e-OFfpEgZyWlHJ49NVkUxDqzaNqI3KK1dzc-mNtASmi1FstwjP4nJVNebpxAFi1bP8WF2r1RM0PwyZtulDsPIpFJee0/s400/DSC05306.JPG" border="0" /></a>London surely does know to attract tourists! My sister, one of the many die hard fans of Harry Potter, considers this photo priceless.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Natural History of Museum</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh56fQWqrrcy_QB-qz0blQTlv-LQDzD2wxHry4_0UVGRJNRhTmRbRJlUG7Bkn2EKFrZCBLr7in_Lqy9TtzgfFqrg8BnjzuEkqqP9_Br2KWQrJo5ZAvW39X3zO9aHB561WWcEUbHnpfU_6V-/s1600-h/DSC05322.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411484957351079794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh56fQWqrrcy_QB-qz0blQTlv-LQDzD2wxHry4_0UVGRJNRhTmRbRJlUG7Bkn2EKFrZCBLr7in_Lqy9TtzgfFqrg8BnjzuEkqqP9_Br2KWQrJo5ZAvW39X3zO9aHB561WWcEUbHnpfU_6V-/s400/DSC05322.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The museum illustrated the various spheres of life that evolved, that are extinct or endangered. It holds historical and scientific value since many specimens of fossils were collected by Charles Darwin himself.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Buckingham Palace</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMX-gimvelIE4cyFkhfGtLFBQkQ3MWxe8lkiUIKIp_JBj8wU71iC-Eyi1wa0dcORDibeGaP8o_SWv1UK8tVNKI38qhyphenhyphenpUj8CKLJwy_BY8S2tZFuxaOCuGNYSBaGPNwoNDg4d7jPNzE-Qr/s1600-h/DSC05421.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411489802453509458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMX-gimvelIE4cyFkhfGtLFBQkQ3MWxe8lkiUIKIp_JBj8wU71iC-Eyi1wa0dcORDibeGaP8o_SWv1UK8tVNKI38qhyphenhyphenpUj8CKLJwy_BY8S2tZFuxaOCuGNYSBaGPNwoNDg4d7jPNzE-Qr/s400/DSC05421.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Speaker's Corner at Hyde Park</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifSFIsKxSn28WhSpAPPXVy2v16qjcmojfTqTp5vn2Ptp74KcU2kb6HeYDDxnxj-azaJLOLoGVYveqkc9WblWCzROQUGRXWeIIv0mXD4ReYblOYJguKqtEQ4iq7toXJk936wXkXNKu0hEah/s1600-h/DSC05475.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411490213241603586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifSFIsKxSn28WhSpAPPXVy2v16qjcmojfTqTp5vn2Ptp74KcU2kb6HeYDDxnxj-azaJLOLoGVYveqkc9WblWCzROQUGRXWeIIv0mXD4ReYblOYJguKqtEQ4iq7toXJk936wXkXNKu0hEah/s400/DSC05475.JPG" border="0" /></a>My dad wanted to be there and give a speech at the Speaker's Corner at Hyde park. Many famous orators have aired their views here.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">Harrods</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZrhOa1tEwRLL0cHTXB997QmIqEnBo4G3I-nmf4O-g4UuSdujD5eMJUo1fHzHxdNQ-WwkpFFWOGlKLy243gkxYTexoZZCNRn_xqOSqREAROWfevS3ZJygR2ZV1SgckQSrV_LEL5_Ff7M9P/s1600-h/DSC05497.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411492268871877922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZrhOa1tEwRLL0cHTXB997QmIqEnBo4G3I-nmf4O-g4UuSdujD5eMJUo1fHzHxdNQ-WwkpFFWOGlKLy243gkxYTexoZZCNRn_xqOSqREAROWfevS3ZJygR2ZV1SgckQSrV_LEL5_Ff7M9P/s400/DSC05497.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Our final destination was the most expensive shopping mall, Harrods owned by Mohammed Al Fayed. Guess the price of this clock we found at Harrods..<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvxce2QDGuTxlW6hDr-fyrgUVjIAY-AEcwBCA14fCpBn_HsCLkYMaXPwu86_H_4A7j32D6Uv62CoXrRuGtuY0ccjEqXC69JfxUhsDQvILSDXWmrcD2TP0ibEruK1MzHFJFL1EOrNBfEj8/s1600-h/DSC05495.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411733143470093874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 184px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvxce2QDGuTxlW6hDr-fyrgUVjIAY-AEcwBCA14fCpBn_HsCLkYMaXPwu86_H_4A7j32D6Uv62CoXrRuGtuY0ccjEqXC69JfxUhsDQvILSDXWmrcD2TP0ibEruK1MzHFJFL1EOrNBfEj8/s200/DSC05495.JPG" border="0" /></a>I know you wouldn't have guessed 8k pounds!..Yes, 8 followed by 3 zeroes. I would not pay the heap even if I had millions in my bank account!<br /><br />That ends our amazing tour of the London city. We were exhausted to the core but at the same time enthralled that we had the chance to experience the capital city.<br /></div>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-9961607290310549532009-04-21T02:49:00.001+01:002009-06-27T16:33:25.611+01:00Making Impossible Possible!!!<div style="text-align: justify;">Once upon a time, not very long ago, there was a girl, unmarried, who led a very carefree life. After the graduation, she dreaded the very thought of getting married and managing household chores. Well, that girl is none other than myself. Whenever we had guests at our place, I have seen my mum work hard in the kitchen. I thought, one day I would be doing this.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />After work, there had never been time to enter the kitchen. There used to be yummy delicious food served on the dining table, not to mention the tantrums we threw when we did not get our favourites. "Wait till you get married", mum used to retort!<br /><br />It's only after my marriage got fixed, I finally decided to enter the kitchen and learned to make biriyani and sambhar! Yes, that's right. I did not know anything else!<br /><br />I remember I was too scared to break an egg and it was my husband who taught me how to break one! Every sphere of life is a learning experience. That's my motto when I make a disastrous dish for dinner. My husband is very supportive and honest to the core. When he says he liked it, I consider it to be a success; if not, better luck next time!<br /><br />One of the tasks I considered impossible is cooking! Well, it's not a herculean task when you have time and interest. Two years back, I dare not even think about cooking for around 30 people and yet, today I made it happen. I know it's a tiny weeny task but I do consider it to be one of my achievements!!!!<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHbYOsSAPIGDWnWzh7_PoLoLGTWdMpGG6unDBeGfT_YkIkwlIXghG-sNygn2S4gLng-Q0DRQpD4pZ5RFQHXessjIDbyallOsBCWAPUOu8Fp_5Tu5jy8n9hhYG4k7_8dYMVTF_H43n6HgiZ/s1600-h/DSC01912.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHbYOsSAPIGDWnWzh7_PoLoLGTWdMpGG6unDBeGfT_YkIkwlIXghG-sNygn2S4gLng-Q0DRQpD4pZ5RFQHXessjIDbyallOsBCWAPUOu8Fp_5Tu5jy8n9hhYG4k7_8dYMVTF_H43n6HgiZ/s400/DSC01912.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339076263966659810" border="0" /></a></div>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-9141784785580632642009-02-11T02:50:00.000+00:002009-05-22T22:18:17.326+01:00Lunch-time gossip-mongers!!<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Lunch-times are always fun at work places. It's inevitably an exciting part of the day. During my first job, it used to be an hour long round-table sessions. With around 15-20 ladies, one can just imagine how interesting it will be! Well, there is no room for silence and those never-ending topics start from current world affairs to office matters and of course, gossips. Ladies the ultimate gossip-mongers, you may think. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Quite different is the situation here at my second work place. After a quick lunch, I start browsing through news websites based in UK to Middle east to India. I realize this is the best time to gather some general knowledge and ahem ahem, some Bollywood gossips too!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It was one of those less-exciting lunch times, when I was trying to keep in pace with the world, something caught my eye. I was quite stunned to see the "Most Read" section of an Indian news website, "Abhi-Ash move out of the family home" and "Kareena turns a cook"!!! Bear in mind, I remember seeing this when there was something really substantial happening in India!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It made me wonder why we are so obsessed with people's personal lives. Why the hell do we bother if Kareena cooks a vegetable curry for Saif? Also, are ladies the only culprits who buy these stories? Well, there has to be a significant contribution from the gent's side too to make it in the "Most Read" section. I am not being a feminist, but this is just a proof that the gene for "gossiping" is not only linked to XX but also to XY!! Next time, you think of ladies being gossip- mongers, think twice!!</span><br /></span></div>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-1846711909358575362009-01-03T14:03:00.001+00:002009-12-08T23:23:17.637+00:00Reporting Scotland<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqL4g3z-nXPy9TgnCrI_OmqzwsA01k2RUTkEWVceLHi6cVEmVd3_lsyp7NqptUR8Pr25nOZGhdH14jCXESZP_D8nPkKbzV1ZkAA7SxU0dO3THoXJGVj6S7lsqVr5X8GOYqDJYma6RQw_v1/s1600-h/DSC00581.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqL4g3z-nXPy9TgnCrI_OmqzwsA01k2RUTkEWVceLHi6cVEmVd3_lsyp7NqptUR8Pr25nOZGhdH14jCXESZP_D8nPkKbzV1ZkAA7SxU0dO3THoXJGVj6S7lsqVr5X8GOYqDJYma6RQw_v1/s320/DSC00581.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287076490247356610" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">From scenes like these, old Scotia's grandeur springs,<br />That makes her loved at home, revered abroad:<br />Princes and lords are but the breath of kings,<br />"An honest man's the noblest work of God."</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"> -The Cotter's Saturday Night, st. 19 (1786)<br /></span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>Written magnificently by Robert Burns, Scotland's national bard, it invariably speaks the elegance of Scotland. Known for its breathtaking charm, Scotland has been left to scrutiny by artists for many centuries.</span><br /><br /><span>My thoughts go back to the very first day when I took in the sheer beauty of Scotland from the windows of the aeroplane. I was stunned by the green stretched beneath me. So picture perfect it was, just like what we have read in our novels, just like what we have seen in photographs. </span><br /><br /><span>When I stepped out of the flight, things were different since a cold wave hit me and I had only donned a layer of clothing. It was freezing, it sent goose bumps all over my body. If only the climate wasn't too chilly, I thought. As soon as I met my husband at the airport, the only negative thought I had quickly disappeared. </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg63_K7FBLHu4ifcFipJHs9l4wwHf0dGlE6i6HetYshgzeJKp2_c0r6M5WlQTE-zg9D0qK5HGvu1HaBB5oGWmnbSWO62DecksQeEKrleXHqDiX7rMF5sPwkvNsyErsfJLUsCQT52mi0qUP4/s1600-h/DSC00421.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 68px; height: 122px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg63_K7FBLHu4ifcFipJHs9l4wwHf0dGlE6i6HetYshgzeJKp2_c0r6M5WlQTE-zg9D0qK5HGvu1HaBB5oGWmnbSWO62DecksQeEKrleXHqDiX7rMF5sPwkvNsyErsfJLUsCQT52mi0qUP4/s200/DSC00421.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287409553855513346" border="0" /></a><span>He took me to our first home. It was set exquisitely amidst the trees and a playground. I was in love with the place instantly.</span> I had to admit my husband's sense of taste.<br /></div><span><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>Not too far from our home, is the city centre which is the hub of most of the designer shops, wide range of </span><span>restaurants and other shopping centres. </span><span>Love walking along the beach?</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span>You </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwmIoW24uYEB1GZgr1Naq_wv4EicSbhl47rn1QzsQIAAJIewXeXpF5Mjb2iQ0zLYXcuJZns7aQX90L-8zdi4cgW7OPwSSmoI6kT86H8YD85O0Q1WA1Z__bEEqQ6cvVvH1ZsvoxMVnaxzX/s1600-h/DSC00744.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 147px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwmIoW24uYEB1GZgr1Naq_wv4EicSbhl47rn1QzsQIAAJIewXeXpF5Mjb2iQ0zLYXcuJZns7aQX90L-8zdi4cgW7OPwSSmoI6kT86H8YD85O0Q1WA1Z__bEEqQ6cvVvH1ZsvoxMVnaxzX/s320/DSC00744.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287405513342793634" border="0" /></a><span>have North Sea, far-extended </span><span>but water so chilly you dare not to step onto it. </span><span>The beam from lighthouses signalling the sailors is yet another feature of the beaches here. </span>The short summers are the time to look forward to. Rays of sunlight, reflecting from the blue waters and the greens, add to the essence of nature's beauty.<br /></div><br />Winters, always damp and cold, are the best times of the year where you can relax cuddled in sofa or enjoy a good book with a hot cup of coffee. We get very less snow. Snow clad Scotland is indeed a sight of serenity and calmness.<br /><br />I was talking to my colleague who's of English origin but is settled in Scotland. One statement made by him really got into my head, "I would say people who always complain about Scotland being unexciting have not really explored the place". Hmm, well said and I would say "Beauty lies in the eyes of beholder".<br /></div>Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088757292366846334.post-4640277303700932992009-01-01T18:58:00.000+00:002009-01-03T13:33:34.267+00:00Welcome 2K9!!<div style="text-align: justify;">It's just a blink of an eye and you find yourself travelling through the sands of time. This is essentially the time we look back to the yesteryear. As far as I am concerned, year 2008 has been a year which craved bitter-sweet memoirs. Why not enter the world of blogs by jotting down some of the events which has immensely affected me.<br /></div><ul style="text-align: justify;"><li><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jan 7th 2008</span> : I started working as Risk Analyst in an Oil and Gas Co. in Aberdeen, Scotland. A good start of the year, I must say. Though a deviation from my field of study, I thoroughly enjoy working for them. This job has definitely helped me in all possible ways.<br /></li><li><span style="font-weight: bold;">Aug 23rd 2008</span> : Our first wedding anniversary which we celebrated in London. Beauty and warmth of London was a treat to cherish forever. As for our marriage, that's classified. I would recommend marriage to anyone who finds solace in spinsterhood. All you need to find is "that" perfect person for you. </li><li><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nov 4th 2008</span>: This was the day my grandfather (Achachan) took his last breath. It is indeed hard to accept that the person you are accustomed to have seen from the time of your birth is no longer present with us. He would be remembered on every occasion during the years to come. </li><li><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nov 26th 2008</span>: The day Mumbai was taken over by few terrorists. "She is not even a resident of India, leave alone Mumbai", you might think. But, the chaos and images of bloodshed was enough to shudder the emotions of every Indian residing in any part of this small world. Terrorism is essentially a pathogen which has to be eradicated from this world. </li></ul>There you go. My very thoughts..MY VOICE..Honest suggestions are most welcome. With a small prayer to the Almighty for a prosperous new year, that's me signing off, AHN.Anuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05579870680730492533noreply@blogger.com2