<?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-8410232726268095280</id><updated>2011-09-04T06:34:00.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Born Spectator</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410232726268095280.post-2797086700097888500</id><published>2008-10-23T05:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T05:59:32.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Impromptu</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This is the truth. My truth. Yet again. I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I have realized in 23 years that no one is old enough to know anything that is of much importance. Sure, people have their own views about life but they are nothing more than perceptions designed to suit their own convictions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I've heard people all around me tell me how the only thing you should really listen to is the voice inside you that somehow always has the answers. I fear, I think, that I may have a name for that voice now. God. Yes. God. Maybe. Uncertain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I have not seen God as such and I attributed much of the importance given to him because of this very fact. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;All this changed on the night of October 18. It was around 1 or so in the morning. The lights in my room were out and the only movement was that of the blades of the ceiling fan swirling around creating a comfortable image on the wall opposite of me while also serving the purpose of breaking the awkward silence I found myself drowning in. There was a storm building inside of me. The kind I cannot recount weathering last. I recalled how I had solicited his presence that very evening probably knowing that pigs had a better chance of flying than my prayer being answered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The next thing I remember is His answer.. Yes, His answer. He answered. Not in the traditional way of a voice from the sky commanding me but much more suttle and soothing. I &lt;i&gt;felt&lt;/i&gt; it. The Bible says that The Lord works in mysterious ways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I tell you this. He does.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, God Exists. Without doubt. He does. Never have I been more confident of this presence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I am reminded of a quote I saw on a David Blaine show:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;For those who believe no proof is necessary. For those who don't none will suffice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This sums up everything I have to say on this subject&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Now, I have never been the religious kind. Not because I am an atheist but because mostly, religion always sounded like an absurd fairytale to me. I did, however, always believe in God. Maybe because I was taught to believe in Him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I can now say this with supreme confidence that no amount of teaching will ever make a believer out of a man unless he sees it for himself. I did. And I believe. I always did, I suppose, but I understand it now. I understand Him now. He replied that night. As wildly imaginative as it may sound. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I had asked a favour off God knowing somewhere in my heart that it would, in all probability, be wishful thinking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I shall only repeat the Bible again, here. The Lord works in mysterious ways. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Sigh… Salvation lies within.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Oh, and if you run into a flying pig you now know who's responsible &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Aseem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;P.S -&lt;span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All the best for Pilani &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-2797086700097888500?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/2797086700097888500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=2797086700097888500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/2797086700097888500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/2797086700097888500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/10/impromptu.html' title='Impromptu'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-3262253522715041970</id><published>2008-09-22T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T11:09:19.425-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Story of my Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;This is what I could come up with for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever heard a song that moves you to tears?&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever felt out of place in this world?&lt;br /&gt;Has anyone ever 'known' you?&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever been touched by the power of silence?&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever felt true pain? No, not the kind of pain you think you feel. The kind a mother feels whose two year old breathes its last while looking into her teary eyes.&lt;br /&gt;True love exists.&lt;br /&gt;Do not be smart enough to question it.&lt;br /&gt;Do not be foolish to accept it.&lt;br /&gt;Most of us are blind.&lt;br /&gt;Never break a promise or a heart,&lt;br /&gt;Friendships do not break if you do not stay in touch. Anything differing from this to the extent of the difference is not friendship&lt;br /&gt;Smile.&lt;br /&gt;Life is simple. You make choices and you don't look back (The Fast and the Furious - Tokyo Drift)&lt;br /&gt;Sing... Even if you can't&lt;br /&gt;Dance... Even if you can't&lt;br /&gt;Do something for someone who will never be able to repay you.&lt;br /&gt;Much like what you parents have done for you&lt;br /&gt;YES, YOU.&lt;br /&gt;We are the chief source of our joy and grief.&lt;br /&gt;Do not let life interfere with your living it.&lt;br /&gt;You are not the only one.&lt;br /&gt;Religion has not failed in its quest to teach us. We just choose to interpret it according to our convenience.&lt;br /&gt;I'm selfish. Just like you.&lt;br /&gt;It isn't what you think it means.&lt;br /&gt;Pause your life. Is this what you wanted?&lt;br /&gt;What next?&lt;br /&gt;Talking is the one of the worst forms of communication.&lt;br /&gt;Forgive people if they repent. You're not God. (Only I AM :D)&lt;br /&gt;Are we really free?&lt;br /&gt;Are you the same person when no one is watching?&lt;br /&gt;Your salary will never buy you a life.&lt;br /&gt;You CAN always, somehow, manage to get yourself out of the mess you get yourself into.&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry. Be happy. It isn't just a song title.&lt;br /&gt;Unblur the line between living and existing.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe your tears are a sign that your body can no longer keep an emotion bundled inside it.&lt;br /&gt;My parents are perfect.&lt;br /&gt;Just life yours.&lt;br /&gt;Your denying it will not change facts.&lt;br /&gt;Emote... In whatever way you choose.&lt;br /&gt;Have a good time. That's why we're here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aseem&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-3262253522715041970?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/3262253522715041970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=3262253522715041970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/3262253522715041970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/3262253522715041970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/09/story-of-my-life.html' title='The Story of my Life'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-9114588290715645075</id><published>2008-08-25T23:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T00:00:59.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You know you're in Chandigarh when ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I found this particularly interesting :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1.) University elections become more important than MLA, MC elections (SOPU, PUSU bruuahh)&lt;br /&gt;2.) Explaining Gehri to outsiders becomes a tough task&lt;br /&gt;3.) 'Uphill' can only be understood by you&lt;br /&gt;4.) You always have a 'pind' to goto every month&lt;br /&gt;5.) Kaimbwala requires no further defining&lt;br /&gt;6.) You always have a separate budget (after buying a car) for bigger tyres, alloy wheels, stereo, woofer&lt;br /&gt;7.) Shopping in guys' vocabulary refers to buying daru from Jugnu Ahata and soda, glasses from any confectionery&lt;br /&gt;8.) Names like Neelam, Nirman, Kiran, Jagat, Batra, Piccadily aren't just names but entertainment centres&lt;br /&gt;9.) Car-o-bar refers to drinking with glasses on the dickey of the car in sector 8 market late at night&lt;br /&gt;10.) Paranthe wale are the chefs who come out late at night at sector 16 to make paranthe and chai for late night partygoers&lt;br /&gt;11.) Abbreviations like GCG, MCM mean a lot without knowing their full forms&lt;br /&gt;12.) Guys speak in loud Punjabi when a group of girls passes by and girls start speaking in English everytime a group of guys passes by&lt;br /&gt;13.) The city seems too slow and dead and everyone heads to Delhi&lt;br /&gt;14.) The traffic cops start the challan drive in the last week of March to end the year in good numbers&lt;br /&gt;15.) Everyone has a 'massi' in Canada, and a 'bhua' in UK&lt;br /&gt;16.) Once upon a point Valentine's Day meant tractors on Gehri route and speeds of only 5 km/h&lt;br /&gt;17.) A new year's bash is incompete without a fight&lt;br /&gt;18.) Any party is incomplete without a fight&lt;br /&gt;19.) Everyone has some political connection&lt;br /&gt;20.) Stu C is more popular with non students&lt;br /&gt;21.) You are proud of being from a particular school and a passive member of its alumni group (Stephen’s,YPS, Vivek, Sna, GNPS, Carmel, SJOBA etc.)&lt;br /&gt;22.) Going to the dog show means checking out the girls more than the dogs&lt;br /&gt;23.) Owning a Bullet while still in school is an achievement&lt;br /&gt;24.) Spending upto Rs 2 lacs on number 1 for a car's number plate does not raise any eyebrows&lt;br /&gt;25.) Kinetic Hondascooter is referred to as Kiney and Bullet bike as Bullt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26.) You are proud of being a Punjabi&lt;br /&gt;27.) 'Mallo Malli Khadak Piyan' sticker is found on many cars&lt;br /&gt;28.) Guys are called by their surnames, (Brar, Sidhu bai, Dhillon) and followed by "Kiven aa, Kidaan!!"&lt;br /&gt;29.) 22g, 62 is only understood by you&lt;br /&gt;30.) You are shocked to find out when someone doesn't drink and is a vegetarian&lt;br /&gt;31.) Many ppl are 'vella' when asked what they do&lt;br /&gt;32.) Everyone's been to the Rock Garden and hate to show it yet again to family friends/relatives from other cities&lt;br /&gt;33.) One hand, while driving, is on the 'muchh' and the other on the steering wheel&lt;br /&gt;34.) Everybody knows everybody&lt;br /&gt;35.) Every new party place has the same old faces&lt;br /&gt;36.) A new car, bike etc. first comes to the Gehri route n later to the gurudwara or mandir&lt;br /&gt;37.) Coke and Pepsi come in small 'Sheeshee'&lt;br /&gt;38.) Your every sentence has a " Ma Di" or "Bhen Di"&lt;br /&gt;39.) Anyone and Everyone has had food at "Pal Da Dhaba" and "Giani Da Dhaba (Dharampur)"&lt;br /&gt;40.) Desi Ahatas are officially called "TAVERNS"&lt;br /&gt;41.) Everyone has heard the song "Chandigarh kare aashiqui" by B21&lt;br /&gt;42.) Bikers are challaned even if the pillion rider is not wearing a helmet and girls are allowed to ride without one.&lt;br /&gt;43.) While in school everyone waits for tuition time to finally talk to the special person (not in a uniform)&lt;br /&gt;44.) Panchkula and Mohali-ites don't mind being called as Chandigarhians&lt;br /&gt;45.) Very few ppl know about the Mosque in sector 20 and the Church in sector 18&lt;br /&gt;46.) Most ppl have been challaned more than once (for speeding mostly)&lt;br /&gt;47.) ... And most ppl have gone to the district courts in sector 17 to get their challans cleared (as it is cheaper than paying the fine at sector 29 police lines)&lt;br /&gt;48.) A good lookin car turns more heads than a pretty girl&lt;br /&gt;49.) English speaking girls are usually referred to as "yankan" or "jhankan"&lt;br /&gt;50.) The "Gehri-on-foot" (à la sector 35 CCD lane, sector 17) becomes more popular&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Aseem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-9114588290715645075?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/9114588290715645075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=9114588290715645075' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/9114588290715645075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/9114588290715645075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/08/you-know-youre-in-chandigarh-when.html' title='You know you&apos;re in Chandigarh when ...'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410232726268095280.post-6338842968292861412</id><published>2008-08-20T02:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T02:23:13.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time on my Hands</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clock says 12:27 PM and the CST3 database is locked. This means I need to sit back, cross my feet on my desk and sip on a Colada&lt;br /&gt;I am in the middle of the week and I’m looking forward to the weekend. I have plans, you see. I intend to get a replacement on the God of War disc I got for the PS2.( It doesn’t work) I also plan on devouring French Fries(McDonald’s) and Chocolate Avalanche(Mocha’s) along with CadB(how could I forget!).&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I have been exploring my rekindled interest in Game Programming and Animation.&lt;br /&gt;“The reason?”, you ask. Well, it is … umm … cool … Yes, that describes it to a T.&lt;br /&gt;Okay let me rephrase that.&lt;br /&gt;I laid out a few options before myself and pondered on each of them the most prominent one being a Masters in Business Administration. Sure, it is a high paying job but working on documents for the rest of my life is not my idea of a job. Not for now at least. Moreover, money is only an added attraction. The point is that no matter what a reasonably academically educated person does they’ll end up earning a decent sum to support their near and dear ones as well. I, sometimes, don’t see the point in earning enough money to splurge. Sure, I love to splurge but there’s a difference. It is when the splurge turns to a basic need that people turn into morons guided solely by financial gain. You see, people, in general, are idiots. Especially when it comes to simple truths like the one iterated above.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was mentioning that an MBA doesn’t look like a cool enough job. Again, for now at least. Now I’ll give you my point of view.&lt;br /&gt;What if you could do what you really wanted to do? You know, everything you wanted to do before you came face to face with the world. That is who you really are and your needs, dreams, aspirations, everything is/was what who your really are/were. I have always been in love with video games. Even imagining a career that is related to this is enough to give me goose bumps. I think that is how people should decide on what to do for the rest of their lives. If whatever they wish to do gives them goose bumps then it will always be worth the while. I’m not complaining about my current job. I am lucky enough to be in a project where I’ve had the opportunity to learn yet another language, new software and of course interact with people who have a ‘Happy’ aura about them.&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that I am absolutely in love with is teaching. I happened to take English/GD classes for a university in Jalandhar through a coaching institute that hired my services for the same. I remember when I was in college I had many a teacher who would come in, deliver a lecture, take attendance and walk out after 45 minutes. Most of them never bothered explaining why we were learning what we were learning. Now that I know a thing or two about my subjects I can confidently proclaim that I was right when, 3 years ago, I sat in one of my classes thinking to myself “There HAS to be a better way of teaching this”. There is. I think the primary goal of teaching is not so much to make a student understand a topic but make him interested in it. Learnability is individualistic. Anyone can pick up a book, read it and understand it. Most people don’t have a reason to do it. Teachers supply that reason. I believe it is only logical. If you are interested in something your inquisitiveness vis-à-vis that ‘thing’ increases. This causes you to explore that avenue in more detail which, in turn, brings about knowledge in the same field. THIS is the power of education.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, back to Video games (J). I embarked on the commonly feared path of diving in Game Programming. It would have given my immense pleasure to walk a fair distance down this road and then announce to the world that all it’s preconceived notions about how Game Programming is akin to Rocket Science is all hogwash. I dabbled a little in graphics and, well, it isn’t exactly hogwash. Okay okay, it is nowhere near the word but … Come on … Creating your own video game … Or even attempting to create one … A simple one … Now that is what I call COOL!&lt;br /&gt;The above is all that came to my mind as of now. I do not know if my interests will stay the same a year or, for that matter, even a day from now but I sure will be sorry if I do not give them the attention they deserve when they deserve it, which is right now.&lt;br /&gt;While I am still typing away I shall mention that my younger brother will celebrate his 20th birthday in a few days (Aug 24). I am not particularly well endowed when it comes to remembering birthdays but his is one that I always seem to remember. His Highness is essentially a good guy but he ends up in situations where he, subconsciously, lets the world form a nebulous opinion of him and then, according to his fancy, ridicules it for being so biased.&lt;br /&gt;If you ever read this then know that you shall be respected by the world provided you earn the respect you want. By the way, you can count on me for absolutely anything that lies within my limits of fulfillment. I’m saying this because I cannot think of a worthy birthday present!!!&lt;br /&gt;But on a tad more serious note, you can always depend on me for anything irrespective of the massiveness or effeteness of whatever it is you want. This goes out without any clause or condition.&lt;br /&gt;You’re a good kid. Stay that way. An attitude only gets in the way of growth. Try to keep this in mind. The next 3 years will alter your life to an extent that you might not have experienced before but I assure you it will be worth the ride.&lt;br /&gt;I think most of what I just said didn’t make any sense. Maybe it didn’t come out right. Oh well … Have a Happy Birthday, Younger Brother&lt;br /&gt;CST3 is up and running now and I need to Unit Test my code right away. Ahh … I live to fight another day.&lt;br /&gt;Hail QTP and VBScript.&lt;br /&gt;Aseem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-6338842968292861412?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/6338842968292861412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=6338842968292861412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/6338842968292861412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/6338842968292861412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/08/time-on-my-hands.html' title='Time on my Hands'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-4805034026368847066</id><published>2008-08-13T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T06:02:39.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Traversing an adversity together</title><content type='html'>... is the surest way of establishing a permanent bond between people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aseem&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-4805034026368847066?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/4805034026368847066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=4805034026368847066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/4805034026368847066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/4805034026368847066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/08/traversing-adversity-together.html' title='Traversing an adversity together'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-3312826143986284123</id><published>2008-07-22T04:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T04:53:48.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ae Dil-e-Nadan</title><content type='html'>Aye Dil-e-Naadaan Aye Dil-e-Naadaan&lt;br /&gt;aarajoo Kyaa Hain, Justajoo Kyaa Hain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hum Bhatakate Hain, Kyon Bhatakate Hain Dashta-O-Seharaa Mein&lt;br /&gt;ayesaa Lagataa Hain, Mauj Pyaasee Hain Apane Dareeyaa Mein&lt;br /&gt;kaisee Ulazan Hain, Kyon Ye Ulazan Hain&lt;br /&gt;yek Saayaa Saa, Rubaru Kyaa Hain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kyaa Kayaamat Hain, Kyaa Musibat Hain&lt;br /&gt;kah Naheen Sakate, Kis Kaa Aramaan Hain&lt;br /&gt;jindagee Jaise Khoyee Khoyee Hain, Hairaan Hairaan Hain&lt;br /&gt;ye Jameen Chup Hain, Aasamaan Chup Hain&lt;br /&gt;fir Ye Dhadakan Si Chaar Soo Kyaa Hain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aye Dila-Ye-Naadaan Ayesee Raahon Mein Kitane Kaante Hain&lt;br /&gt;aarajooon Ne Har Kisee Dil Ko Dard Baante Hain&lt;br /&gt;kitane Ghaayal Hain, Kitane Bismil Hain&lt;br /&gt;is Khudaee Mein Yek Too Kyaa Hain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love this song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aseem&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-3312826143986284123?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/3312826143986284123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=3312826143986284123' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/3312826143986284123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/3312826143986284123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/07/ae-dil-e-nadan.html' title='Ae Dil-e-Nadan'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410232726268095280.post-7010767313733468294</id><published>2008-07-14T05:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T05:41:39.878-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OSD 855 is Down</title><content type='html'>I sit here (in SDB 5, where people talk loud enough to be heard by the entire floor and where the ceiling leaks when it rains.) waiting, in hopelessness, for the 855 OSD Environment to be up and running again. In this while I have stumbled upon the answers to some of life’s most perplexing questions. You should NEVER, ever, Complete FLOW ACTIVITY manually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is it. This is the only thing in the universe worth knowing. Everything else is secondary. It has come to be that I am no longer the college boy I’ve been for so long. My joys of having the rain fall on my face have given way to caution that needs to be exercised every time God weeps so that my trousers are not ruined by earth stains.&lt;br /&gt;I would rather have code that runs than, say, watch a movie. Okay, maybe I went overboard but you get the general notion I’m trying to put forth here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am typing these words solely because of reasons mentioned above (Line 1 to be exact).&lt;br /&gt;I’ve already incorporated coffee into my routine. In fact, I love the Lipton Choco Almond Coffee in the pantry. Of course, you know by now that this caffeinated beverage is free of cost here. A half litre Pepsi bottle sits between my monitor and coffee cup holding water just enough water to help me last the day today. My trusty umbrella sits in a lone corner in a mess of ‘official documents’ if you may call them that. The most ahem, neat feature about every cubicle here is the whiteboard and free stationery we receive. It houses quick notes that I make visa-vis my work. I think i like it simply because it makes me feel like I’m actually doing something.&lt;br /&gt;That reminds me … I’m working on VBScript and a bit of Oracle and a mainframe Unix system (Sounds Hi-fi, doesn’t it – it isn’t!!!) and we are trying to automate the work done by the CST (Testing) team during regression. I know you might be lost amongst some of the jargon you just encountered but it serves you right for reading other peoples’ blogs *snicker*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait … Checking OSD …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nopes. No luck yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can hear people murmuring things heard, perhaps, only in horror movies or, of course, on the second floor of SDB 5.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;This is just in …&lt;br /&gt;Okay I have to go RIGHT NOW.&lt;br /&gt;It’s our PM’s birthday and as is the tradition here, the entire floor gets to eat free of cost!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FREE FOOD !!! WOO HOO !!! (Clicks his feet in the air)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aseem&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-7010767313733468294?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/7010767313733468294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=7010767313733468294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/7010767313733468294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/7010767313733468294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/07/osd-855-is-down_14.html' title='OSD 855 is Down'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-7826076934576083265</id><published>2008-07-11T03:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T03:52:43.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time to Wake Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What you get by achieving your goals is not as important as what you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;              become by achieving your goals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This just occured to me. Most people will mostly blindly believe what you say if you command their respect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aseem&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/8410232726268095280-7826076934576083265?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/7826076934576083265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=7826076934576083265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/7826076934576083265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/7826076934576083265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/07/time-to-wake-up.html' title='Time to Wake Up'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-3503342029132309502</id><published>2008-07-10T05:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T05:53:25.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Truth in Black and White</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Along the way, education is trampled by degrees, work compromised by ambitions, love wasted by priorities, spirituality by religion and every philosophy of life laid barren by a paucity of insight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It doesn't get truer than this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Aseem&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/8410232726268095280-3503342029132309502?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/3503342029132309502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=3503342029132309502' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/3503342029132309502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/3503342029132309502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/07/truth-in-black-and-white.html' title='The Truth in Black and White'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410232726268095280.post-6910400299328667158</id><published>2008-07-05T06:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T06:34:49.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>23 - The Journey So far</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_5AJBfCQZMiI/SG93Sy7B-cI/AAAAAAAAAA8/pF_2M1vvhkM/s1600-h/06302008360.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_5AJBfCQZMiI/SG93Sy7B-cI/AAAAAAAAAA8/pF_2M1vvhkM/s320/06302008360.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219521657936411074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_5AJBfCQZMiI/SG93TL3B2hI/AAAAAAAAABM/26i4r1uHNLU/s1600-h/06302008359.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_5AJBfCQZMiI/SG93TL3B2hI/AAAAAAAAABM/26i4r1uHNLU/s320/06302008359.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219521664630512146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Ma sent me this ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Kya tha mein kya ban gaya :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far it's been a day spent in solitude and cogitation :)...&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aseem&lt;br /&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/8410232726268095280-6910400299328667158?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/6910400299328667158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=6910400299328667158' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/6910400299328667158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/6910400299328667158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/07/23-journey-so-far.html' title='23 - The Journey So far'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_5AJBfCQZMiI/SG93Sy7B-cI/AAAAAAAAAA8/pF_2M1vvhkM/s72-c/06302008360.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410232726268095280.post-2543957689003963593</id><published>2008-07-01T00:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T00:09:29.442-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unlinked Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today will never happen again. Don't waste it with a false start or no start at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You were not born to fail ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We waste time looking for the perfect lover instead of creating the perfect love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Aseem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-2543957689003963593?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/2543957689003963593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=2543957689003963593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/2543957689003963593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/2543957689003963593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/07/unlinked-thoughts.html' title='Unlinked Thoughts'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-3858093900280437105</id><published>2008-06-25T22:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T22:40:07.249-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Unquestionable Truth</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Religion and faith are intoxications that help soften the blow of reality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Life just came back full circle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Aseem&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/8410232726268095280-3858093900280437105?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/3858093900280437105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=3858093900280437105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/3858093900280437105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/3858093900280437105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/06/unquestionable-truth.html' title='The Unquestionable Truth'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-2122657254458011763</id><published>2008-06-23T04:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T04:38:38.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Zeppelin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_5AJBfCQZMiI/SF-LHgEFN7I/AAAAAAAAAAs/kUms9k02-WQ/s1600-h/Zeppelin3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215039854500722610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_5AJBfCQZMiI/SF-LHgEFN7I/AAAAAAAAAAs/kUms9k02-WQ/s320/Zeppelin3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_5AJBfCQZMiI/SF-LHvn3VsI/AAAAAAAAAA0/fthGowpnR4o/s1600-h/Zeppelin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215039858677339842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_5AJBfCQZMiI/SF-LHvn3VsI/AAAAAAAAAA0/fthGowpnR4o/s320/Zeppelin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This little fellow is officially the youngest member of the Gill family ... :) I believe I am hooked for life ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Aseem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-2122657254458011763?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/2122657254458011763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=2122657254458011763' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/2122657254458011763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/2122657254458011763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/06/zeppelin.html' title='Zeppelin'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_5AJBfCQZMiI/SF-LHgEFN7I/AAAAAAAAAAs/kUms9k02-WQ/s72-c/Zeppelin3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410232726268095280.post-2281341231078510728</id><published>2008-06-11T02:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T22:54:34.289-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Idle Mind is the Devil's Workshop</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am alive. I am at peace. This never ending war between me and myself finally seems to have settled down to an extent that I can now hear my own inner voice again. It is not a matter of jubilation but of realization. This world really is my oyster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cannot anyone make out the difference between reality and make believe?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe people are blinded by trivial matters. Maybe it is deliberation. Maybe it is just naivety. I do not know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are fascinated by, as Alanis Morissette puts it, &lt;em&gt;them transparent dangling carrots&lt;/em&gt;. What is normal?&lt;br /&gt;Is it just the ‘accepted notion’ as voted by a subconscious majority too busy to break out of the monotony of their lives?&lt;br /&gt;Is it being led, directly or indirectly, by other peoples’ tastes and opinions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe I am not normal. Not that I deliberately choose to be so but because I believe this is what truly defines me.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve lived my life like an experiment so far and I’ve loved every part of it. Over my entire lifetime I’ve assumed so many roles and facets that I cannot help but marvel at the things I could do if I tried.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I contemplate over why people are content with mediocrity. Why they choose to let their lives govern them instead of the other way around. This world would be a better place if everyone only woke up.&lt;br /&gt;Why cannot we drop our falsified, superficial ‘I’m better than you’ egos for a second experience the joy of just … being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened to ‘Being free to do what you want to do’?&lt;br /&gt;What happened to ‘Feeling the wind blowing in your face on a warm winter afternoon’?&lt;br /&gt;What happened to ‘Letting the first drop of rain fall on your face’?&lt;br /&gt;So is life really that hard?&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t truly understood what I’m doing on this planet but it sure feels good to be here.&lt;br /&gt;Now does that qualify as reason enough to stay alive?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe my typing this is proof that it is. Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;People complain that life is unfair. So what?&lt;br /&gt;How can that make a difference to the way you live your life?&lt;br /&gt;If it does then maybe you need to rethink your priorities.&lt;br /&gt;There’s a cobbler, back in my home town, who sits near our local market. I’d say he is at least 70 years or so in age. He uses a wheelchair, has nobody, other than himself, to support him and probably lives on less than Rs.50 a day.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, there are times when I cannot help but be influenced by the man’s straight forwardness and what I would term ‘genuine clear heartedness’. I suppose that should drive home the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This world is littered with rich idiots blinded by their own ignorance of the purpose of existence. Money only gets you a false sense of importance. It doesn’t buy you class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow,&lt;br /&gt;All I know is that I have no clue about life …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;… and neither do you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is why the journey can be so much fun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sooner we realize it the better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aseem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-2281341231078510728?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/2281341231078510728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=2281341231078510728' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/2281341231078510728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/2281341231078510728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/06/idle-mind-is-devils-workshop.html' title='An Idle Mind is the Devil&apos;s Workshop'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410232726268095280.post-5691477494660169064</id><published>2008-06-05T00:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T00:31:44.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Be or Not To Be</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The following is a letter that a 19 year old boy wrote to his father:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I seriously say to you that business or job as an engineer is not the thing for me. It is totally foreign to my nature and radically opposed to my temperament and opinions. Physics is my line. I know I shall do great things here. For, each man can do best and excel in only that thing of which he is passionately fond, in which he believes, as I do, that he has the ability to do it, that he is in fact born and destined to do it. My success will not depend on what A or B thinks of me. My success will be what I make of my work. Besides, India is not a land where science cannot be carried on. I am burning with a desire to do physics. I will and must do it sometime. It is my only ambition. I have no desire to be a 'successful' man or the head of a big firm. There are intelligent people who like that and let them do it. I hear you saying 'But you are not Socrates or Einstein'. No — and that is what Berlioz's father said to Berlioz. He called him a useless musician when he was young — Hector Berlioz who now accepted as one of the world's greatest geniuses and France's greatest musician. How can anybody else know at what time what one will do, if there is nothing to show. ... It is no use saying to Beethoven 'You must be a scientist for it is great thing' when he did not care two hoots for science; or to Socrates 'Be an engineer; it is work of intelligent man'. It is not in the nature of things. I therefore earnestly implore you to let me do physics&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;By the way, that boy grew up to be Dr. Homi Jehangir Bhabha - The Father of India's Atomic Energy Programme ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Aseem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-5691477494660169064?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/5691477494660169064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=5691477494660169064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/5691477494660169064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/5691477494660169064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/06/to-be-or-not-to-be.html' title='To Be or Not To Be'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-5496831171099990636</id><published>2008-06-01T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T21:08:19.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday Morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It is Monday morning and I have alarming amounts of lactic acid running through my veins right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, is prejudice a vice or just your autodidactic subconscience undertaking its mundane quotidian tasks?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Wondering ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Aseem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-5496831171099990636?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/5496831171099990636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=5496831171099990636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/5496831171099990636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/5496831171099990636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/06/monday-morning.html' title='Monday Morning'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-58478187458226228</id><published>2008-05-30T00:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T00:11:10.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Freaky Friday - What's in a Name?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This world is a happy place … It’s Friday you see!&lt;br /&gt;I think it’s funny how Friday has almost always been important in my life.&lt;br /&gt;We used to have ‘He-Man and the Masters of the Universe’ on Friday when I was younger and life was a rollercoaster.(Then, life happened)&lt;br /&gt;I attended my last lecture in school on a Friday as well. (It was Hindi).There’ve been so many instances where, by either coincidence or deliberation, Friday has been responsible for bringing about a change of mood in me.&lt;br /&gt;I just remembered … Daniel Defoe named the tribal on Robinson Crusoe’s island as &lt;em&gt;Friday&lt;/em&gt; as well !&lt;br /&gt;I suppose that was only deliberation. I mean, who, in their right mind, would name a character Monday or Tuesday? I know &lt;em&gt;Wednesday&lt;/em&gt; is a character as well in The Addams Family but it just doesn’t … cut it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This takes me back to an episode of Seinfeld where George Castanza(Can’t Stand ‘ya Hehe) wanted to name his son &lt;em&gt;7&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe, without an ounce of doubt, that some of the best names are those of Muslims and Parsis. The phonetic arrangement is such that anyone who gets a hang of the dialect can pronounce the word with an ease rarely found in other languages.&lt;br /&gt;Incidentally, &lt;em&gt;Mohammed&lt;/em&gt; also happens to be the most common name in the world. Oh, and if you’re thinking &lt;em&gt;Aseem&lt;/em&gt; is a Muslim name then you have another thought coming. It’s actually a Hindu name. I think people tend to confuse it with &lt;em&gt;Wasim&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve currently residing in Pune with 3 very special people. The hitch, though, is their names.&lt;br /&gt;Take &lt;em&gt;Shantanu Rathore&lt;/em&gt; or &lt;em&gt;Saint Anu&lt;/em&gt;, as I like to call him, for instance … I think it’s a scary coincidence that his name has &lt;em&gt;‘Shant’&lt;/em&gt; in it. And it’s also hilarious that Rathore rhymes with &lt;em&gt;Bhor&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abhinav’s always reminded me of &lt;em&gt;JHArkhand&lt;/em&gt;, or &lt;em&gt;JHA re JHA oh harjai&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;JHAneman&lt;/em&gt; etcetera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Anmol Dhand&lt;/em&gt; becomes &lt;em&gt;Dhandva&lt;/em&gt;. It also rhymes with &lt;em&gt;Pakhand&lt;/em&gt;!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, off course, have had a zillion distortions done to my name. I think Rathore has the complete list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;mAGgi, Kill Gill, Gill vil Pyar Vyar, Afeem&lt;/em&gt; and the latest addition … &lt;em&gt;Haseem&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know Shakespeare said, “What’s in a Name?” but I guess he just did not know enough now did he? Haha ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HELL YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH @ Shantanu ! He knows what I’m referring to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, It is time for me to depart for lunch … Pasta awaits me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Weekend&lt;br /&gt;Aseem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-58478187458226228?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/58478187458226228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=58478187458226228' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/58478187458226228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/58478187458226228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/05/freaky-friday-whats-in-name.html' title='Freaky Friday - What&apos;s in a Name?'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-728895485604969475</id><published>2008-05-25T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T22:00:40.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Belated Post</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It is 7:38 P.M and, as expected, I am still at my cubicle. I cannot help but ponder upon the fact that I see my life taking turns in directions I always thought I would never ever, consciously, take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The part that astounds me, though, is that I seem to feel at home once office ‘officially’ gets over. Sure, I go through the initial feeling of getting up and running back home when I see the buses depart at 6:00 but the transcendence of this despair to comfort feels smoother than Coke with ice. !.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adios&lt;br /&gt;A.G&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-728895485604969475?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/728895485604969475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=728895485604969475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/728895485604969475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/728895485604969475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/05/belated-post.html' title='A Belated Post'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-4991136330734673838</id><published>2008-05-19T03:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T03:59:25.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ping !</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting in my 'new' cubicle in SDB 5 here in Pune - Phase 2. We fondly refer to this building as 'The Egg' or 'Spaceship' for reasons that are perfectly logical if you've had the opportunity to witness the structure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news that will sound alien to you, we've just finished testing a Change Request and expect to start off on another one shortly. I see myself coming back in the '8:15' bus for this very reason :( ... Oh well ... I might as well get used to it. Hmm ... I think I've been had you know ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway ... My struggle for securing a place in a 'Top 30' B- School has begun and seems to be well on track. The only problem is the long hours I might have to spend at the office which, I fear, shall cause me to reduce the already miniscule effort I put in on that front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My posts are shorter and far more apart from each other in terms of the publishing date than what I would have hoped them to be but alas ! I've no choice. I do not know how or when things will change on this front but I'm hoping for the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers&lt;br /&gt;A.G&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-4991136330734673838?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/4991136330734673838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=4991136330734673838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/4991136330734673838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/4991136330734673838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/05/ping.html' title='Ping !'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-4912945639742696621</id><published>2008-05-14T22:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T22:18:17.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fair Enough</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;An excerpt from Steve Jobs' Stanford Graduation Day speech:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life। Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S - I'd recommend going through the entire speech&lt;br /&gt;A.G&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-4912945639742696621?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/4912945639742696621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=4912945639742696621' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/4912945639742696621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/4912945639742696621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/05/fair-enough_14.html' title='Fair Enough'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410232726268095280.post-2920332643911422657</id><published>2008-04-29T00:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T00:17:57.978-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Purpose of Existence</title><content type='html'>Every word you read of this useless fine print is another second off your life. Don't you have other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestly can't think of a better way to spend these moments? Or are you so impressed with authority that you give respect and credence to all that claim it? Do you read everything you're supposed to read? Do you think every thing you're supposed to think? Buy what you're told to want? Get out of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex. Stop the excessive shopping and masturbation. Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you're alive. If you don't claim your humanity you will become a statistic. You have been warned- Tyler &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could be either God's worst enemy or nothing, which would you choose? We're the middle children of history, we have no special purpose or place, and unless we get God's attention, we have no hope of damnation or redemption. Maybe because God’s hate is better than His indifference.Which is worse, hell or nothing? Burn the Louvre, wipe your ass with the Mona Lisa. This way, at least God will know your name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes you wonder, doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adios&lt;br /&gt;A.G&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-2920332643911422657?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/2920332643911422657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=2920332643911422657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/2920332643911422657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/2920332643911422657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/04/purpose-of-existence.html' title='The Purpose of Existence'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-7491520218197941894</id><published>2008-04-28T09:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T21:13:08.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday Morning</title><content type='html'>Good Morning world&lt;br /&gt;It is Monday morning and I am sitting in front of my assigned PC in the infy Campus here in Pune(Phase 2). Our employer has also been liberal enough to give us a CISCO phone, which, by the way, is what most people would term 'Ultracool'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I've had a great weekend as was planned. Jha ,though, seems to have taken the eternal question of taking GRE or GMAT a little too seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, Joy surrounds me. I do not know why. Gladness is what I have for my current state of being.   &lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I feel like continuing but I cannot think up anything worthwhile to 'write home about' ... Ahh ... Bad pun ... Oh well ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My iPod has saved me stabbing myself with any sharp object every time I feel bored. Thank you, Apple :) ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm listening to and seeking solace in 'How do you feel tonight' by Bryan Adams as I type these words ... Perfect for now &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about it from my side for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adios&lt;br /&gt;A.G&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-7491520218197941894?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/7491520218197941894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=7491520218197941894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/7491520218197941894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/7491520218197941894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/04/monday-morning_28.html' title='Monday Morning'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-1931858989897558205</id><published>2008-04-25T00:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T00:42:51.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This and That</title><content type='html'>An increasingly alarming feeling of despair and falsified hope engulfs me these days (Thank you Infy)... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh ... Enough whining already&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, It's Friday !!! Only an IT engineer would truly understand it's importance :D &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.G&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-1931858989897558205?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/1931858989897558205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=1931858989897558205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/1931858989897558205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/1931858989897558205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/04/this-and-that.html' title='This and That'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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-8410232726268095280.post-1187850872853364060</id><published>2008-04-15T01:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T01:59:12.277-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Half Asleep and Half Bored to Death</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This mail is proof enough of the fact that I have nothing to do and that I'm conning myself into believing that by typing meaninglessly into oblivion I am actually making use of my time ... Sigh ... If wishes were horses I would ride them ...&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was all just bricks in the wall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A.G&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8410232726268095280-1187850872853364060?l=thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/feeds/1187850872853364060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8410232726268095280&amp;postID=1187850872853364060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/1187850872853364060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8410232726268095280/posts/default/1187850872853364060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thelaststageofavarice.blogspot.com/2008/04/half-asleep-and-half-bored-to-death.html' title='Half Asleep and Half Bored to Death'/><author><name>The Artful Dodger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01228467159543122112</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>
