<?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-307583123351085212</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:13:37.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Musings of an Imagination</title><subtitle type='html'>To see a World in a grain of sand, 
And Heaven in a wild flower, 
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand, 
And Eternity in an hour.
-William Blake-</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-1455041130492351012</id><published>2011-06-05T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-05T08:59:13.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>5 years</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When you become a substance abuser, your only love is for the feeling it gives you. Coffee, is my substance. A high you get from a simple sip, from the bitter taste, to the head rush you get afterwards. The perfect companion for life. The perfect partner.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Don’t believe the hype. Coffee doesn’t kill you.*winks*&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Yet again though, this story isn’t about me. It never is. I am a voyeur, stuck in a world which believes its black and white. But everyone seems to be seeing a different shade everywhere. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No this story, is about a man. Someone who clawed his way out of lifes clutches. Someone, who at lifes consistent curve ball, picked himself up, and became more then anyone could’ve ever hoped he was. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;*tugs your hand* walk with me down memory lane my friend.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He looks himself in the mirror. 29 years. One year from thirty, one year from ending his 20’s. Looking back, he’d never had thought he would’ve made it this far. Who would’ve. A mere boy running from one destiny to another, all chosen for him by everyone else, now a man, building his own world. The way he wanted it to be. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Theres a distant hum. Like waves splashing on the shore. This is it. His dream home. His elysium. He found it, nestled on the most perfect spot nature could offer. Almost like his own hobbit hole. But more then that. It was his home. There’s a lake facing towards the west, a mere stage for the sunrays playing when the suns put to bed every night. he smiles, he never thought he’d have made it this far.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sipping from his mug, he sits at his favourite spot. That chair by the window. Reflection. All great men do it, some in ways different from others. This was his time for reflection, his time to see change.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;5 years ago, he’d have never imagined himself here. He closes his eyes, and lets his mind do the travelling.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;…………………………………………………………………….&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The worlds a stage and we’re all God’s fucked up players. That is if there is a God.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He should get the phrase tattooed on his forehead. Feeling like a practical joke, wasn’t the best feeling in the world. But it was him. He flips through his laptop. And smiles.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Stuck in a rut, where his one ray of sunshine would be the days where he’d get messages like this. Sometimes it was a poem. Sometimes it was a story. It was always a happily ever after. These quips they made him believe. Believe in ways he never could’ve imagine. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But he was stuck. Dead end job, dead end life. It hurt him, he felt like he was in a black hole, one he couldn’t climb out of. Life it seems, was suffocating him. Like the crushing ocean around a sinking ship. Life felt cruel. Yet it dealt him a fair card. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And all that started it was an “Are you single?” message.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It felt good. Being able to talk. An unhindered naivety. And it amazed him to see what she saw in him.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She saw, a man who had been through the most ludicrous of challenges. She saw a man who held the world on his shoulders, and felt weary from being the pillar. She saw a man who in her eyes, was a hero, even if all he saw in the mirror was a man who couldn’t be called a man. Everything about him excited her. From his childlike love for music videos, to attempting to dance to songs without a sense of rhythm. His love for the weird, the beautiful. His conscience. She saw him for exactly what he was. She saw him for the man he shouldn’t have been afraid of being.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He’d sing her songs. With the most off key voice. Eyes alight when he talked about things that mattered most to him, from books, to movies about killer alien robots. His puppy like fascination for everything made her smile. But don’t be fooled. The man wasn’t as soft as he seemed. Hardened by years of unneeded obstacles, he could be firm in his beliefs. But those beliefs made sense to her. Made her think. Made her faith a little faith that people could be human.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He listened to her. With her, every small thing mattered. Every smile, every letter, every word. It all made sense to her. He was still stuck in a rut, but he found himself wanting to get out. He found his her. He wanted to be different. He didn’t need to be prince charming on a white horse. He could be the pauper, but he could be himself. That’s all that mattered.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;……………………………………………………………&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If you looked to the corner of the room, there’s 4 wooden frames. Not of pictures, not of photos. But a story. A story called cliché’s. The story talks about a boy and a girl. Boy meets girl. Girl meets boy. They fall in love. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;They live happily ever after. That story was written years ago. It was a story that described the during, the before, the after. The spaces between each word.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If you look at the other corner, there’s a huge collage of photographs. From 2 month of amazing memories. Every fight, every laugh, every smile. Encapsulated in a moment when the right person took the right photograph. It was a difficult time, but it was a time where much seemed to have changed. It felt the same, but that’s how winds move don’t they. You never know their coming till you feel them.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Isn’t that the concept of faith though. Simply believing what’s not there? Something we can feel, but never touch. Something that’s shines so bright, but we can never see. And faith, in its most unadultered form, comes when someone simply believes in you. Simply believes you can make a difference. That you can be a better man.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;……………………………………………………..&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He found himself fighting. 5 long years. He wouldn’t stay down. Yes, he was aware of his faults. Yes he was aware of what made him inhuman. He was aware of how much it hurt when he fell. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But his clarity, his determination drove him to not stay down. And he held her hand. It was always the little things that made a difference. That smile when the world was dark. That good morning message. It all made a difference. It all made it different. He made it through every obstacle. From finding his nook in this much messed up world, to building his dream home. His future, his life.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Somethings, take time, but when you reach the end of the tunnel, ur greeted by warm sunshine in cool November rain.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was a tough fight. A lot of the times he felt like giving up. A lot of the time he felt it was easier to just stay out of the rabbit hole. To stay out of megatrons way. But he didn’t. He became prime. He fought. For whatever reason, whatever drive he fought. Some pumped up robotic shit maybe, but he fought.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And he made it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“You may lose faith in us, but never in yourself.” Immortal, he lived.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;……………………………………………….&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Can you truly make it though? How would you know if you’ve truly made it? It doesn’t make sense to know that you have actually. More often then not, its more as if your taking a breather. Theres always another hill to climb. So what was so significant about this? What was so significant about this 5 years? Surely in the grand scheme of things 5 years would seem a mere nothing to what the rest of your life actually is.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ah here she comes. The landmark in 5 years. The reason why this story’s even titled 5 years. She tip toes around the room, not wanting to wake him up. Not wanting to stir him from his dreams.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He looked so peaceful in his sleep. No one would’ve guessed the amount that mans been through in the last 5 years. And you’d be surprised where your biggest enemies come from. But at the end of the day, she knew she’d be by his side.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Softly, she kisses his cheek. And he smiles. He looks up at her. His wife. Probably the best achievement ever. Probably the reason why he’d always remember his 29&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; birthday. He fell in love with his best friend. He found his happily ever after.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Happily ever after wouldn’t end there. It would go on. They’ll be dark clouds, but they both knew they could make it. Whatever life through at them, they’d both be ok.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Because it was them. The perfect two.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  -----------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;*sips coffee* this story has no substance. Theres no mention of events, there is no mention of a proper guideline. No proper plot. An amazing hero though, a pretty stubborn heroine.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But that’s not the point of this tale. Simple really. It’s about believing. Believing that there is another tomorrow, believing that when push comes to shove, you’ll live. You’ll love. And there isn’t such a thing as the world being perfect.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We build the world we live in. we construct it with what meager tools we’re given. But at the end of the day, when we face that final sunset, we don’t remember that exact memory’s but we cherish the feelings we get. From fighting, from losing, from defeating, from being defeated. It all makes us so human.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;*places mug on table* Did you enjoy this trip? I believe I have thus far. And I’m looking forward to the next chapter. Because there always is a new one, just around the corner. 5 years? Sometimes, it makes a lifetime.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-1455041130492351012?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/1455041130492351012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=1455041130492351012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/1455041130492351012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/1455041130492351012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2011/06/5-years.html' title='5 years'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-7270148920306241381</id><published>2011-03-19T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T07:14:21.047-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Elysium</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Dream of a world &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With freedom&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Freedom for life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Freedom for our eyes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To reach the heavens&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To dream for not a world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But for infinite of worlds&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To see us all live&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With neither difference nor division&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To see us all &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Look up too the same sun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Too live a life &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unlike anyones &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Freedom!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not a fear in sight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That’s freedom&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To think to breathe to understand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hail those sacrifices &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The one that bring us today&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hail the heavens&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who have heard our pleas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hail the ability too speak&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The unspoken have been heard &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hail life and the lives spent&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hail all that have given us the reason &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The reason to live&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are free &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we can now always be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*just a little something to start up the momentum of this blog again. and due to certain pressures from different parties.:)*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-7270148920306241381?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/7270148920306241381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=7270148920306241381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/7270148920306241381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/7270148920306241381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2011/03/elysium.html' title='Elysium'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-6278957690590225236</id><published>2009-08-26T11:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T11:09:24.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The million dollar questions answer.</title><content type='html'>Whoever said time heals all wounds has got to be the biggest idiot on earth. *No offence mate*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time doesn’t heal all wounds. 20 years into the future, a wound that you thought closed off could probably open up and sting again, as fresh as if it were made yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time leaves wounds open with a dull ache. And sometimes, sudden memories add salt to the wound, making it feel like it just opened up all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time when someone passed away, I would give the public word or statement called “My condolences”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How irritating I must’ve sounded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she passed away, people would come up to me and say “we’re very sorry about your Grandmum.” Even in my ragged state of mind then, I’d always wonder, “What the hell are you sorry about?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be sorry. I SHOULD BE sorry. But in a way I’m not. Why? My grandmum raised three kids, one of which became the greatest father on earth, the other two became the best uncle and aunt that any girl could hope for. But to me, that’s not her most incredible feat. Her most incredible feat was so simple:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She learnt how to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She would love you, even if you were a criminal on death row. And once she loved you, you felt as if you’ve never ever been loved by anyone else on earth. She was so unconditional. Never once did you feel like you have to earn her loved. Her love was so pure it was heartbreaking, and its that love that leaves a dull ache today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s the crunch : She loved me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loved me for my craziness and almost cheeky nature. She loved me and she told me that every night we slept. She held me close when I had tears streaming down my face. She prayed for me. Every. Single. Day. I was her Rani, She was my grandmum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that’s why it hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this is not my memoir to my grandmum. That I’m still working on. For that memoir, I want every word to be perfect, just like she was to me. This is to answer that million dollar question , “ Are you ok?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s the long answer, the one I would give if I had the time. “I don’t know if I’m ok. I could feel “ok” in one minute, but in the next I could be crying my eyes out. I don’t think that qualifies me as ok, but I think it qualifies me as “I’m trying to be ok.” I miss her and every minute of the day I’m confronted with memories of her. Every step I take I’m reminded of how she once held my hand and guided me through. And because of that, every time I move, there’s a dull ache in my chest reminding me that my guide has passed on and now its time for me to light my own path. And I am scared shitless.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grief is a funny thing isn’t it? Just when you think you have it all figured out, it just turns around and cripples you to the ground. But boy does it toughen you up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once read a quote that reminded me of how humans move on with life. It said, “Fear not, for Death is liberation and grieve not for those who have found themselves in Deaths warm embrace. Rejoice for the moment they lived, and those moments that made them special to our hearts.” I don’t quite agree with the “don’t grieve” part but I sure as hell would like to rejoice for every minute my grandmum walked this earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love and miss you Bibiji. And not a minute in my life will go by not remembering you and your love for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“ In my darkest hour you held my hand.&lt;br /&gt;My candle that burnt both ends,&lt;br /&gt;And as you came to the centre of your wax,&lt;br /&gt;You burnt so brightly, that tears would lapse,&lt;br /&gt;Now that candle has disappered,&lt;br /&gt;Leaving me with warmth that slowly dissipates,&lt;br /&gt;I’m reminded by the cold darkness,&lt;br /&gt;That the absence of light is not without reason,&lt;br /&gt;In the hour that’s darkest you always return,&lt;br /&gt;Reminding me its my turn to burn,&lt;br /&gt;I pray to the lord, “Look after my angel”&lt;br /&gt;And weep and cry, for I’m worthless to ask,&lt;br /&gt;Will I ever move on, I have no clue,&lt;br /&gt;But one things for sure,&lt;br /&gt;Bibiji, I love you.”&lt;br /&gt;Date:23/8/2009&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To: The greatest woman that ever walked this earth&lt;br /&gt;Duration of living: Forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-6278957690590225236?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/6278957690590225236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=6278957690590225236' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/6278957690590225236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/6278957690590225236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2009/08/million-dollar-questions-answer.html' title='The million dollar questions answer.'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-5880707894435827675</id><published>2009-01-08T10:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T11:51:51.893-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey people.....</title><content type='html'>In case you were wondering, the coffee drinker is a purely fictional post. The athelete in the story might sound familiar to a few of you but thats cause my dad told me his story when i was really disappointed on something(details will go no furthere from here people!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The coffee drinker however, well thats a character you will be seeing more of. Being a person who is completly bored out of my brains, i invented the coffee drinker as a way to pass time in hopes that i would not rot. But then it hit me, this coffee drinker, a pure figement of my imagination, could be the person who dwelves into memories and comes up with new stories, ideas and a paradigm thats shared with the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows which memory and moment the coffee drinker will play up next. But untill the next post at least. I bid You all adieu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;without wax,&lt;br /&gt;Meninder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ps... for people who have been following the blog intently, my poetry took a more depressing turn at one point. That was mainly cos of the exams. So dont worry people, Im still completly(well. almost) sane. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-5880707894435827675?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/5880707894435827675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=5880707894435827675' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/5880707894435827675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/5880707894435827675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2009/01/hey-people.html' title='Hey people.....'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-1569601767538812295</id><published>2009-01-08T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T10:53:08.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The coffee drinker.</title><content type='html'>A coffee is an insomniac’s poison. Yet I still sip on one every two hours. And I think. Of incidences and memories. The kind that you never forget. A strong black coffee with little sugar and no cream is a sure way not to sleep. And when you got a bad case of insomnia, trust me it ain’t no cure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was on one of these more worse nights( if there’s ever is such a thing) that I sat back and thought about a memory. Not a fading one. But one that stayed etched in my mind forever. I remember that day as clear as anything. A cloudy day at the stadium. Dismal even. But was a place where a spirit of a man was not going to be diminished. Especially not by a trifle thing like the weather. This mans story goes something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was at the starting line. Of his life. He crouched down and remembered. He remembered every moment. Every breath. Every drop of sweat. Those months of preparation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“On your marks”&lt;br /&gt;He crouched down. Leg prepared to launch him to victory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Get set”&lt;br /&gt;He was ready. No gun could scare him from his purpose. No pistol could hinder his path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“GO!!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was off. He felt the wind whipping through his hair. He felt the ground, light under his feet. He felt the adrenaline, pumping through his veins. He was flying. Flying through those moments built up until today. Enjoying that feeling. “What was it?” he wondered. Satisfaction? Happiness? Euphoria? He couldn’t explain it. Not now, when he was flying without wings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life however has a funny way of throwing us a curveball when we least expect it. Even at the top of the world. He sensed something was wrong even before it happened. One moment he was flying. Next his entire world came crashing down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All he felt was a searing pain. It went through his left leg. He couldn’t explain the tears that fell down his face. He had never once cried when he fell. But now, he couldn’t stop the coming. Bewilderment was etched in every corner of his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He could hear the paramedics van coming closer. He could hear the shouts of the spectators from the stadium. He could hear his mom. Pleading with him to get up. He opened his eyes and realize what had happened to him. His age old injury had returned. Striking him harder then ever. As if teasing him. Ridiculing him. At the last 400 meters of his race. He couldn’t believe it. Why now? Why at the most important race of his life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He couldn’t say how he felt or why he felt it. He couldn’t even register the pain properly. He was in despair. The biggest loser on the planet. That’s all he could think of himself. In his ears he heard jeers. Of people who said that he wouldn’t make it. That his past demons will haunt him. Down and beaten, he did not move. Nothing did. All was still and silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened next was unexplainable. Something. A small in significant spark. It, with no waning, built up to a roaring fire that crashed through the very core of his being. An unexplainable sense of strength and determination. His mothers voice. Maybe it was so heavily ingrained in him that he was a champion. Maybe it was himself. The part of him. The little fighter that was not always there but when awoken was ferocious. The one who knew nothing would ever get the best of  him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He got up. Painfully but with resolve. Refusing assistance, he struggled to his feet. His left leg refused to cooperate. He didn’t care. He hadn’t done months of preparation for no reason. He was going to finish the race. Regardless. One step at a time to cross that finish line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking the first step was the hardest. The stadium was silent. Even the paramedics stopped telling him to take a break. His mom had only tears to shed. He looked at the hope in her face and found strength. And he took that first step like a new born baby learning to walk. Stumbling a little, he managed to take another. He learnt to focus on the moments. Not the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He remembered the hours in training. He took a step. He remembered the grueling hours in the gym. And took another step. He remembered standing in front of the mirror every morning and telling himself that he could do it. Behind him the medics were following. Not asking him to stop upon realizing he wanted to continue. Daring not to ask him to slow down and stop. He wouldn’t have anyway..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crowd was silent. The stadium was echoing. The man that had come in first was no longer important. They watched this man fighting his battle. Alone. Silently, they cheered him on. Silently they shed their tears. The silence was unnerving. It was powerful. In that silence, so many dreams were seen. So much was found. On that mans battle, many found strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man kept walking. The end was near. He did not slow down. He refused to stop for breath. With huge effort, he kept walking. With all the strength he could muster, he kept walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he crossed the finishing line, the crowd went wild. They cheered the true champion of the race. The cheered the man who never let his demons get the better of him. The crowd was wild, their thirst for a true champion quenched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for our runner? He collapsed in relief. He was satisfied. He had completed the race, regardless of what would happen next. He felt that every single thing was worth it. He had tears in his eyes. From pain, exhaustion, happiness, sadness, relief, acceptance but most of thankfulness. Thankful that he did complete the race. His heart was filled with pride because he beat his demons. Taunting him no more, they dared not touch him. He won the true battle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He may have gotten last place, but he emerged from the race victorious that day and etched himself as a hero in everyone’s hearts. His defeat of the battle against himself gave every person in that stadium hope. He is a stranger that I saw that morning. The stranger that taught me its ok to move on. Its ok to be afraid sometimes. But never let the fear of losing out, keep you from doing all you can and being all you can be. I was one of the spectators of his race and to that man, I raise my coffee and say thank you. For that one lesson in life I will never forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sip my coffee before paying another visit to my memories.  I had all night and day to do this. Sleep never came over me. It was time for yet another visit……..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-1569601767538812295?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/1569601767538812295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=1569601767538812295' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/1569601767538812295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/1569601767538812295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2009/01/coffee-drinker.html' title='The coffee drinker.'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-4579089897626652379</id><published>2009-01-04T01:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T01:31:46.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hey one and all!!</title><content type='html'>Happy 2009!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok im not gonna bore everyone out of their brains by talking about bnew beginnings and all that.... i already do tht on a yearly basis.... im jus gonna start of the year with my favourite saying by far... an expert from the kung fu panda(now hows that for a place of inspiration:))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yesterdays history, Tomorrows a mystery. But today is a gift.&lt;br /&gt;               Thats why its called the &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;PRESENT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; See as human beings. we tend to always worry about the furture and about whts gonna happen next. We always say that we've gotta plan for our future and we become so obssessed with our future their we forget our current present is our future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God works in mysterious ways. He's made an object called time. and object which never stops functioning. which continues moving. and which bever looks back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good friend of mine once said "live your life to the max" and he did. He died earlier in the year of 2008. He was only 16.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not gonna start this year of with a grim note. Nor am i gonna start this year of with the notion of deaths in the midst. But we have to realise its there. Every breath we take is one step closer to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while we still have air in our lungs. And while we still have the ability to live. Lets make every moment count. Every moment should be our new year. Every second should be a second we cherish. Every day should be a day of resolutions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and every night before we sleep, we should sleep with contentment and with the thankfulness that gods given us another day to live it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so me being virtuous and advisory is all about up. Now its back to the crazy person we all know and love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;special thanks to my insane half jiwan for kicking my arse  into writing a new post. CONGRATUALTIONS to you, pevin, sharan and all my other PMR friends on the wonderful results!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New year to u all!! i will be posting new stuff as soon as i get my chance to. Which should be really soon seeing as that i'll probably have nothing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hugs and kisses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;without wax,&lt;br /&gt;meninder:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-4579089897626652379?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/4579089897626652379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=4579089897626652379' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/4579089897626652379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/4579089897626652379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2009/01/hey-one-and-all.html' title='hey one and all!!'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-7860905509410462591</id><published>2008-09-03T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T09:52:29.857-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another window view :)</title><content type='html'>I am alive&lt;br /&gt;But not living&lt;br /&gt;A shadow in depths&lt;br /&gt;I breath&lt;br /&gt;But I’m not breathing&lt;br /&gt;The air is just another thing&lt;br /&gt;That goes by&lt;br /&gt;Sigh…&lt;br /&gt;Even that’s just a sound.&lt;br /&gt;No meaning&lt;br /&gt;Not a sentence or a word&lt;br /&gt;Empty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel nothing,&lt;br /&gt;I’ve loss the sense of sight and sound,&lt;br /&gt;I’m just alive, passing&lt;br /&gt;Not grabbing on the moments that fly by&lt;br /&gt;Is this life?&lt;br /&gt;How dull and uninteresting…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could die right now&lt;br /&gt;(Evacuating soul in 3,2,1….)&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t&lt;br /&gt;I’m still alive but not living…&lt;br /&gt;Its dark and suffocating,&lt;br /&gt;Like a blanket that can’t be removed&lt;br /&gt;And when removed its jus the same,&lt;br /&gt;No change,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m bored but can’t do anything,&lt;br /&gt;I’m scared but can’t scream,&lt;br /&gt;I’m happy but can’t smile,&lt;br /&gt;I’m alive but not living.&lt;br /&gt;Help me please?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Help me stranger&lt;br /&gt;Help me move again&lt;br /&gt;Help regain my senses,&lt;br /&gt;My emotions my thoughts&lt;br /&gt;Let me feel sorrow&lt;br /&gt;Let me feel fear&lt;br /&gt;Let me look my maker in the eye&lt;br /&gt;And tell him I’m here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m ready stranger&lt;br /&gt;I’m ready to move on&lt;br /&gt;To make a difference&lt;br /&gt;To grab at the mommets not let them move at all&lt;br /&gt;I want to fly! I want to glide!&lt;br /&gt;Push me off the edge of that cliff&lt;br /&gt;Like a baby eagle&lt;br /&gt;Give me my wings!&lt;br /&gt;Let me fly!&lt;br /&gt;Let me in to those gates&lt;br /&gt;Let me scream and shout&lt;br /&gt;Let me laugh and cry&lt;br /&gt;Give me a tune, a simple tune,&lt;br /&gt;Let me live, at last&lt;br /&gt;No more monotone, or emptiness,&lt;br /&gt;Let life crash through me&lt;br /&gt;Like a waterfall&lt;br /&gt;Crasing down to the rocks&lt;br /&gt;In musical syncrohny&lt;br /&gt;Sigh that is life&lt;br /&gt;That is life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meninder Kaur&lt;br /&gt;11.08 am&lt;br /&gt;4/9/2008&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-7860905509410462591?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/7860905509410462591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=7860905509410462591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/7860905509410462591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/7860905509410462591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2008/09/just-another-window-view.html' title='Just another window view :)'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-4656065221131016249</id><published>2008-06-11T03:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T03:58:03.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some thoughts :)</title><content type='html'>It’s been real long since I actually opened this laptop to write something:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You it just recently hit me that I tease all my school leaving friends about schooling in the middle ages. You know the jungle trekking to get to school, the snake infested swamp, vampire teachers etc etc( ok maybe I exaggerate a little bit ) ok maybe a lot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But its just occurred to me, (how daft seeing as that I’m being continuously reminded that my entire future hangs in the balance) that I’m going to soon be joining those Darling friends of mine in the middle age society(lol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, one moment I’m a toddler, next I’m spending two years in Indonesia, my primary school days end… and my secondary school chapeter is about to meet the same fate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What have I done to make this leg of my Journey memorable?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many things. Happy, sad, crazy things(love these), bizarre, successful and some even down right disastarous. And all those moments built up my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I look back, I see so many things. I see 16 years worth of memories. I look at a photo of me when I was 3 years old and have this distinct longing just to crawl back into those times( which might explain my childish behaviour). I see love. I see some old rivalry. (if anyone didn’t got through the girls versus boys stage please shoot me in the head.) I see so many memories. Some painful others healing. But cherished memories all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at my school mates and realize that I, not gonna be on that same environment in another 6 months time. Its gonna all change. Don’t get me wrong I’m exited to see what the world has in store for me but I’m not quite ready to give up what I have now. It sad to think that all kids are dying to grow up fast but all grown ups are praying for a reverse growth formual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that’s the mystery of time. It’s like sand you try holding in the palm of your hand. It has a funny way of slipping out and never returning. I guess that’s why so many people say just go with the flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still its hard to imagine life without school, a vampire teacher, cartoon classmater(no offence guysJ), your true friends, and your crazy memories. Its hard, right now, to imagine not having to wake up at enearthly hours to make it to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow though I have to find my wings and fly. Its time to end yet another chapeter of this journey and move to the next beginning. But not just yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meninder Kaur from 10/June/2007,5.30 pm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-4656065221131016249?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/4656065221131016249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=4656065221131016249' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/4656065221131016249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/4656065221131016249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2008/06/its-been-real-long-since-i-actually.html' title='Some thoughts :)'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-2433939792512839048</id><published>2008-04-02T03:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T03:45:43.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little drops of water</title><content type='html'>Drops of water come falling for above,&lt;br /&gt;I sit here in resign.&lt;br /&gt;Seeing not but the farthest ends&lt;br /&gt;Of fields and meadows far and wide&lt;br /&gt;I lost some bonds&lt;br /&gt;I thought would never break&lt;br /&gt;I lost some sense of reason&lt;br /&gt;A decision made without the clock&lt;br /&gt;A decision made out of reason&lt;br /&gt;Sad that I am I think not back&lt;br /&gt;For days and time has passed&lt;br /&gt;The raindrops keep falling from far above&lt;br /&gt;Down the rabbits chute&lt;br /&gt;To glories below&lt;br /&gt;A microscopic dot&lt;br /&gt;In the universe&lt;br /&gt;But something so powerful.&lt;br /&gt;Designing landscapes and feeding lives&lt;br /&gt;A little drop of water&lt;br /&gt;Can make a plant grow&lt;br /&gt;And from that plant an animal will live&lt;br /&gt;And so the cycle goes&lt;br /&gt;As it climbs the top most point&lt;br /&gt;Our existence comes to play&lt;br /&gt;That drop of water down my back&lt;br /&gt;Is the reason why I live&lt;br /&gt;Depth of wondering minds&lt;br /&gt;Brings about a sense of purpose&lt;br /&gt;For in the moment I feel numb&lt;br /&gt;I feel a thousand rivers&lt;br /&gt;A thousand suns a thousand  stars                    &lt;br /&gt;I see what most choose not to&lt;br /&gt;I sit here patiently with raindrops down my back&lt;br /&gt;No longer do I sit resigned&lt;br /&gt;For these little drops of water&lt;br /&gt;That shape the mighty land&lt;br /&gt;Taught me that this is not the end&lt;br /&gt;Nor will it be for a long time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-2433939792512839048?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/2433939792512839048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=2433939792512839048' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/2433939792512839048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/2433939792512839048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2008/04/little-drops-of-water.html' title='Little drops of water'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-8848079862589905935</id><published>2008-02-13T19:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T19:40:15.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>14th of february 2007 =P</title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning&lt;br /&gt;And saw love all over again,&lt;br /&gt;In the face of the mother&lt;br /&gt;Protecting her brood&lt;br /&gt;Wanting to rip the eyes of the bully&lt;br /&gt;She fears not the brute&lt;br /&gt;In the eyes of a father&lt;br /&gt;Who saw all the worlds hardships&lt;br /&gt;And chased the boogey man away&lt;br /&gt;For his kids to smile again&lt;br /&gt;On the lips of a lover&lt;br /&gt;With golden words&lt;br /&gt;Promising a promise&lt;br /&gt;Of forever and a day&lt;br /&gt;In the actions of teacher&lt;br /&gt;Holding the future&lt;br /&gt;Of our nations peace&lt;br /&gt;In her very hands&lt;br /&gt;I saw it in a kids delight&lt;br /&gt;His joy at a small present&lt;br /&gt;With unquestioned love&lt;br /&gt;For everyone around him&lt;br /&gt;Power beyond all&lt;br /&gt;The four lettered word&lt;br /&gt;Its beauty incomprehensible&lt;br /&gt;Its wrath unheard .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy valentines day. From my heart to yours. Today when you say I Love You to anyone, say it with all your heart and say it with true feeling. Don’t analyse your feelings. Just go with the flow.&lt;br /&gt;God bless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meninder =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-8848079862589905935?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/8848079862589905935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=8848079862589905935' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/8848079862589905935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/8848079862589905935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2008/02/14th-of-february-2007-p.html' title='14th of february 2007 =P'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-1095012482438739439</id><published>2008-01-23T19:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T19:42:59.464-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaths</title><content type='html'>Take a breath,&lt;br /&gt;Let rivers flow let the sky weep.&lt;br /&gt;In and out it goes,&lt;br /&gt;The world moves with a beat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every breath taken is another breath lost&lt;br /&gt;So breath like you have never breathed before,&lt;br /&gt;Life itself s so precious like pearls&lt;br /&gt;Once gone forever lost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live your life for now and forever,&lt;br /&gt;Never stop living at al&lt;br /&gt;Don’t lose the moments or mope for those lost&lt;br /&gt;Just breathe in and out with conviction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stand up and stand like you have never stood before.&lt;br /&gt;Listen to the sound of your breath in and out.&lt;br /&gt;This is the moment so take the plunge.&lt;br /&gt;Breathe the breath of life, breathe like you have never breathed before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meninder Kaur&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-1095012482438739439?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/1095012482438739439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=1095012482438739439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/1095012482438739439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/1095012482438739439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2008/01/breaths.html' title='Breaths'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-5772435536463835356</id><published>2008-01-16T19:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T19:44:16.481-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She's buying the stairway to heaven.</title><content type='html'>Every morning I pass the same sights and sounds. I meet without really meeting people that are the same but different destinations. I'm so used to just driving straight pass these sights that even if something changed, the view i had would still stay the same.Its not ignorance.It is just monotone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day i walk to the same class,study with the same people and do the same things. I live life in a routine.sure it can change sometimes yet when its over things go back to normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monotone.Routine.Habit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came 16 January 2008. When things changed a little more for the better and a little more for the worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird how life takes a change doesnt it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold&lt;br /&gt;And she's buying a stairway to heaven.&lt;br /&gt;When she gets there she knows, if the stores are all closed&lt;br /&gt;With a word she can get what she came for.&lt;br /&gt; Ooh, ooh, and she's buying a stairway to heaven.&lt;br /&gt;There's a sign on the wall but she wants to be sure '&lt;br /&gt;Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.&lt;br /&gt;In a tree by the brook, there's a songbird who sings,&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven.&lt;br /&gt;Ooh, it makes me wonder, Ooh, it makes me wonder."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life has 2 paths we can always go buy. There always be choices. Am i making the right choice to say? Have i done what i can?Do I even know what i want right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mysterious it is this miracle of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sometimes know that the choices we make has major impacts in our life.And yet we still walk on those parts of our lives. We get caught up in the momments and we forget our sense of reason. Sometimes our choices make us forget who we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a feeling I get when I look to the west,&lt;br /&gt; And my spirit is crying for leaving.&lt;br /&gt; In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees,&lt;br /&gt;And the voices of those who stand looking.&lt;br /&gt;Ooh, it makes me wonder, Ooh, it really makes me wonder.&lt;br /&gt;And it's whispered that soon if we all call the tune&lt;br /&gt;Then the piper will lead us to reason.&lt;br /&gt;And a new day will dawn for those who stand long&lt;br /&gt;And the forests will echo with laughter. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you remember laughter? As a child when we were told of a pied piper who would lead us away just by playing his merry tune. Our innocense as kids when we used to remember the boogey man. Today i look at the courtyard and i saw all the kids in the world playing games with their friends and i long to be them again. To reserruct my childhood and to be able to run around with everyone else. Not worrying about deadlines and all other problems. To be able to have fun again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now,&lt;br /&gt;It's just a spring clean for the May queen.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run&lt;br /&gt;There's still time to change the road you're on.&lt;br /&gt;And it makes me wonder.&lt;br /&gt;Your head is humming and it won't go, in case you don't know,&lt;br /&gt;The piper's calling you to join him,&lt;br /&gt;Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know&lt;br /&gt;Your stairway lies on the whispering wind. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there time to change? I begin to ponder and wonder on that two phrases in the song. Is there time to mov on with life? Covering past mistakes and understanding and experiencing new ones?or has my life gone beyond all that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And as we wind on down the road&lt;br /&gt;Our shadows taller than our soul.&lt;br /&gt;There walks a lady we all know&lt;br /&gt;Who shines white light and wants to show&lt;br /&gt;How everything still turns to gold.&lt;br /&gt;And if you listen very hard&lt;br /&gt;The tune will come to you at last.&lt;br /&gt;When all are one and one is all&lt;br /&gt;To be a rock and not to roll"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes there is time. There is a life that i need to lead and to me life must go on. There is happiness and there is hope. There is a life I lead with all that i need. Here i am walking and wanting to walk some more. Wanting to shout to the world that hey this is life. Meant for the living. I have my answersright here right now. And yes this is life. Today right now,right at this momment.I live and breathe alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" And she's buying a stairway to heaven."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-5772435536463835356?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/5772435536463835356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=5772435536463835356' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/5772435536463835356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/5772435536463835356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2008/01/shes-buying-stairway-to-heaven.html' title='She&apos;s buying the stairway to heaven.'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-5917051139701772063</id><published>2008-01-05T06:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-05T06:31:47.101-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting</title><content type='html'>Waiting,&lt;br /&gt;Deep breathes short rasps&lt;br /&gt;Just waiting&lt;br /&gt;Heavens peak may call&lt;br /&gt;And yet I’m still waiting&lt;br /&gt;Waiting even if hells core&lt;br /&gt;Comes knocking at my door&lt;br /&gt;I’m waiting&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for the moon to blush crimson&lt;br /&gt;Or the sky to turn green&lt;br /&gt;I’m waiting&lt;br /&gt;I shall never tire for waiting&lt;br /&gt;If waiting brings answers&lt;br /&gt;I will continue waiting&lt;br /&gt;I am not weary nor resigned&lt;br /&gt;So I shall sit here patiently&lt;br /&gt;Waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meninder Kaur&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-5917051139701772063?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/5917051139701772063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=5917051139701772063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/5917051139701772063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/5917051139701772063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2008/01/waiting.html' title='Waiting'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-6427154112965311903</id><published>2007-11-07T07:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T07:49:09.667-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"When you reach for the sky you will fall among the stars"</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130122770140798658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 182px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="125" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_EEfdR8zhOJU/RzHbephinsI/AAAAAAAAAAc/BFYVX2wGh6M/s320/9I8T2CAA2KWSRCA2R0J9RCAPG1N6HCALHGK4YCASQOKXHCAI8PZZLCA1W4QL3CAEA4V33CAVE0WP4CAFH9U11CAZFUOGRCAPMV42XCAI3MB54CAK3ZKRPCAFQUL0SCAQ55ZK7CAYMWEMZCANULGG4.jpg" width="188" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“A philosopher once asked, "Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?" Pointless, really...”Do the stars gaze back?" Now *that's* a question.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ian McKellen-&lt;br /&gt;Stardust&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130124217544777490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 139px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="131" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_EEfdR8zhOJU/RzHcy5hinxI/AAAAAAAAABE/DSenWt2uco4/s320/YCZZQCA0P7928CAQK6JXUCAO7SXSICAT2BXK2CA6OXDF8CAG00E8DCAC8TI1JCAGT58PCCAHOPSDSCAQFMCRQCA9JHB62CADX9WPKCA13Z1D9CA1TA1PZCAGSPOIKCAGZ21PXCAGJLH64CABJVIMP.jpg" width="175" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film just ended and I was sitting there alone. The credits were long over yet I was watching a blank screen. And realized that I had yet to thank the one thing that always listened especially in the midst of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we look at the stars what is it that we truly see? A bunch of bright stars in the sky that look beautiful? An infinite space?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130123629134257874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 152px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="128" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_EEfdR8zhOJU/RzHcQphintI/AAAAAAAAAAk/G0Nv2KZiuOQ/s320/AZ2XZCAAJ3X7CCAG852W8CALIX32ACACWS8DCCAHN3F0ECAIU66HICA545UM4CAXQVFDQCA7BN983CA6I5FW1CAADUX5ECAVHY0ESCAWADI0CCA6XYIY6CAH7VP7ECAQ9E39ICAF6AO51CANCGLAV.jpg" width="139" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d like to think stars are Gods way of making us realize that he’s there even in the midst of the night. Trust there have been countless times when I sat under the night sky wondering why I did some stupid thing or other and wondering what I could’ve done to prevent it from happening. And the stars listened never judging never saying anything. They jus sit there listening and leaving me in a comfortable sort of silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stars have no longer been seen as thousands of suns that burn billions of miles away. Through our lives we see stars as not burning matter but a source of hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130124153120268034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="128" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_EEfdR8zhOJU/RzHcvJhinwI/AAAAAAAAAA8/M33cElkFj78/s320/Stars.jpg" width="150" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“ Second star on the right and straight on till morning”&lt;br /&gt;-Peter Pan-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy who believed in happy memories. Who never grew up. And yet he thought us all a lesson we must never forget. Childhood and all its innocence must never be forgotten. Hold on to a happy thought and you will fly. That is the way we shall live and learn to live. Believing in a never-never land that apparently lives somewhere in our vast galaxy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130124024271249138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 174px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 147px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="138" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_EEfdR8zhOJU/RzHcnphinvI/AAAAAAAAAA0/DNDj4ONgsoM/s320/images.jpg" width="174" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many times in our desperate hour of need have our eyes searched heavenwards and screamed for answers? Every single star in the sky looks down on us as we look up to them. They see all. Its almost as if God’s many eyes are looking down on us and watching the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hatred&lt;br /&gt;Suffering&lt;br /&gt;Pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But also&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;Happiness&lt;br /&gt;Peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130123818112818914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 172px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 145px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="132" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_EEfdR8zhOJU/RzHcbphinuI/AAAAAAAAAAs/mRNn5Qctoo8/s320/DFXUXCA2SS823CAUMXK7RCAP49G1QCA13RQ4MCARUENH6CAPPSQUUCAJILQM9CA90A9J5CAVFX7BECASC2CEICAWURN03CADFIPUWCAWY07IICANCV2QWCAD5CIE1CAV74AUFCASO1ZGSCABLCWC9.jpg" width="114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange isn’t it to think that when we strive for our best we put it in a metaphor of reaching for the stars. For they seem to be the highest point of the world. Their glorious beauty captivates us all. To the young child who believes that all his wishes will come true on each star he wishes on. Or for the lover who hold hands under the sky making pledges that together is forever though forever never lasts. For a mother who prays to the sky that her daughter is safe. Or for a father to boast about his son. The stars have been here to witness all and are symbolic in our daily lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What do stars do best?.....They shine”-stardust-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They shine with hope, beauty, grace integrity and love. They shine.&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/307583123351085212-6427154112965311903?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/6427154112965311903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=6427154112965311903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/6427154112965311903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/6427154112965311903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2007/11/when-you-reach-for-sky-you-will-fall.html' title='&quot;When you reach for the sky you will fall among the stars&quot;'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_EEfdR8zhOJU/RzHbephinsI/AAAAAAAAAAc/BFYVX2wGh6M/s72-c/9I8T2CAA2KWSRCA2R0J9RCAPG1N6HCALHGK4YCASQOKXHCAI8PZZLCA1W4QL3CAEA4V33CAVE0WP4CAFH9U11CAZFUOGRCAPMV42XCAI3MB54CAK3ZKRPCAFQUL0SCAQ55ZK7CAYMWEMZCANULGG4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-4706657066631003083</id><published>2007-10-18T02:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T02:31:11.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ishveer: My baby brother.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122602760045895266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_EEfdR8zhOJU/RxckEc34nmI/AAAAAAAAAAU/xU91bKA39tc/s320/Copy+of+pevins+digital+camera+pictures+038.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ishveer&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Every time I see him I always see that same smile. Innocence,naive, a picture of perfection. I see a little boy whose dreams are a reality. Who enjoys the simple pleasures of life without wanting more. His smile the number one reason why we all smile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Even as I'm writing this he's sitting there and watching me, eyes piqued and curiosity alive. Beautiful brown eyes. Cutest smile that is so free for everyone to see. But not once has anyone seen him cry. Even as a baby not once did he cry. And he's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;every ones&lt;/span&gt; child. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Best part about him is the fact that he can always tell when your upset or when you feel down. He's usually the only who can guess how anyone is feeling. he never judges against anyone. He can't. He doesn't understand why he simply can't believe the best about a person. He wants to believe the best about the world and he does. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Kindness, pure, honest,larger then life, with a big heart. I can find all the values the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;world&lt;/span&gt; lacks in this one boy,in all children.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Here he comes probably to ask a for story. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;innocence&lt;/span&gt; of a child to find happiness in a simple &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;children's&lt;/span&gt; story. I hide a tear for my disappearing childhood and pray to God that the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;world&lt;/span&gt; would learn from the people we call "children".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-4706657066631003083?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/4706657066631003083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=4706657066631003083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/4706657066631003083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/4706657066631003083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2007/10/ishveer-my-baby-brother.html' title='Ishveer: My baby brother.'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_EEfdR8zhOJU/RxckEc34nmI/AAAAAAAAAAU/xU91bKA39tc/s72-c/Copy+of+pevins+digital+camera+pictures+038.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-7006740978295333242</id><published>2007-09-08T07:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T07:50:18.477-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Difference</title><content type='html'>The solo guitar comes in. You’re not prepared for what come next. BAM. It hits you. Listen to the words. I mean really listen too the words. Not just hum to the tune. Listen. So you think u can tell heaven from hell? Do really think u can? I wonder. Weirdly enough this questions hits half way base. Watching a man united game and the score is tied 0-0. Wait there he goes. He shoots….. HE SCORES!! Wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t?&lt;br /&gt;                       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                        Song in question is of course by my favorite band, Pink Floyd. Wish You Were Here. Listen to it. Think about what he is singing about. Listen to the bass. I mean really listen. What pops up in your mind the minute you here the first question. If u don’t have the song, just imagine someone asking you to spot the obvious differences between heaven and hell. But honestly is there a difference? Is there truly a difference between mount Everest and mount Kinabalu?   I mean they are both mountains for Christ sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                        Why does mankind imagine differences and that shun those who are different from what is referred to as the norm of society? Why the colour is black associated with bad and the colour white associated with good? Why is it that we think of different ways to look at things when quite frankly everything is the same? Why is it that everyone insist that we are different and unique when we all come from the same all mighty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                        Thing is we as man kind are afraid of differences. Try something new. Like instead of going with the norm of your workplace, try something different. Instead of wearing the colour blue all the time why not try the colour pink? Oh pinstripes instead of polka dots? Granted the management might want to send you on the next trained too crazy town but hey its u we are talking about not the rest of the world.  So what the heck someone calls you a fool. It’s their problem not yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                        So what’s the true difference u can make? Remember the guy that score in that man u game? What if he hadn’t? There would be no beer parties no cause of celebration. Similar the opposition would have nothing too commiserate over. One goal had all that many things to change. Then we have politics where every vote counts. One vote and the political party in control can change. And that vote could be you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                        How does all this fit in differences? Simply because that is what’s different. There is so many ways describing it yet so little too talk about. So how do we talk about it? Simple. It’s abundant all around us. Through music, racism and political debates. So now what do we do about it? Nothing. We just realize that there is little difference but also embrace the fact that we can make a difference. Make sense? Thought so. =P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-7006740978295333242?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/7006740978295333242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=7006740978295333242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/7006740978295333242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/7006740978295333242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2007/09/difference.html' title='Difference'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-8038223127728504674</id><published>2007-09-07T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T08:03:21.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey there....Here are some of the poems I've written... all are original and of different insprirations.....tel me what you think!! Peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Momments"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The morning light creeping&lt;br /&gt;Birds a chirping&lt;br /&gt;The world alive&lt;br /&gt;Laughing&lt;br /&gt;A breathe taken at every minute&lt;br /&gt;A brand new beginning&lt;br /&gt;Not yesterday’s sorrows nor disappointments&lt;br /&gt;Nor tomorrows worry nor thousand questions&lt;br /&gt;Nor little frown nor high monsoon&lt;br /&gt;Just a minute without treason, crap or gloom.&lt;br /&gt;A moment of peace&lt;br /&gt;Where the entire world can wait&lt;br /&gt;The silence heard so comforting&lt;br /&gt;Nothing says no or yes&lt;br /&gt;Nothing says just do your best&lt;br /&gt;Just a second of emptiness if you will&lt;br /&gt;A moment where the world is cool&lt;br /&gt;Before reality sinks in before the truth is felt&lt;br /&gt;Those are the true seconds&lt;br /&gt;The separates heaven form hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Soldiers Tears"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another sunset has come too pass&lt;br /&gt;The last bullet dies&lt;br /&gt;The thousands screaming are silenced&lt;br /&gt;I walk with neither a smile nor sigh&lt;br /&gt;The rain falls down&lt;br /&gt;Washing the blood off the field&lt;br /&gt;How did these thousand die?&lt;br /&gt;For a one misunderstanding&lt;br /&gt;For million deaths&lt;br /&gt;Brings a bout a billion lives&lt;br /&gt;So what is the truth?&lt;br /&gt;Truth seems all beyond&lt;br /&gt;Is killing a husband a father a brother a child?&lt;br /&gt;Is that justice at all?&lt;br /&gt;For the widowed bride that sits and weeps&lt;br /&gt;At every bullet I had sowed&lt;br /&gt;For the wounded child that cries aloud&lt;br /&gt;Cos daddy’s never coming home?&lt;br /&gt;For the sisters tears come down in torrents&lt;br /&gt;Unable to feel a brothers protection&lt;br /&gt;A mother tears with courage&lt;br /&gt;Hoping to see her sons return&lt;br /&gt;For a war based on colour race and religion&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I lost a thousand brothers&lt;br /&gt;What is truly the jihad?&lt;br /&gt;A thousand innocent lives lost for no reason?&lt;br /&gt;Are we all brothers and men of god?&lt;br /&gt;If we kill each others existence?&lt;br /&gt;What is the future we build for tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;If we build a future at all?&lt;br /&gt;I walk through the desolate field&lt;br /&gt;And here silence&lt;br /&gt;The after feeling of death&lt;br /&gt;For neither tears nor sighs nor groans&lt;br /&gt;Nor laughs or smiles a plenty&lt;br /&gt;Just a feeling of nothing in between&lt;br /&gt;Sunset and sunrise&lt;br /&gt;Cos tomorrow it continues&lt;br /&gt;Again and again&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow never dies in this field my friend&lt;br /&gt;I kill to live they kill too live&lt;br /&gt;So what is life at the end?&lt;br /&gt;For if death comes on swift wings&lt;br /&gt;Dropping like pink mist&lt;br /&gt;Down from heavesn peak to hells core&lt;br /&gt;For neither today no tomorrow will save us&lt;br /&gt;And now is forgotten&lt;br /&gt;The true heroes of the battle field&lt;br /&gt;Are those who run a way&lt;br /&gt;For running away is the secret&lt;br /&gt;To saving more lives today&lt;br /&gt;A vacuum of silence&lt;br /&gt;I’ve left my heart at home&lt;br /&gt;For home is where it belongs&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how will it be tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Will I see another sunset?&lt;br /&gt;The mist falls as the stars shine&lt;br /&gt;I look and pray to the divine&lt;br /&gt;So that I’ll live to see another day&lt;br /&gt;To see my son laugh&lt;br /&gt;To watch my wife smile&lt;br /&gt;To free my sister from all hells boys&lt;br /&gt;To say I love you to my mom&lt;br /&gt;One last time&lt;br /&gt;Before my last sunset comes&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I shall sleep&lt;br /&gt;If I sleep at all that is&lt;br /&gt;For tomorrow may be my last&lt;br /&gt;From a father a husband&lt;br /&gt;A brother and a child&lt;br /&gt;I bid the world farewell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A Little Piece Of Heaven"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our fingers entwine&lt;br /&gt;My hand on your heart&lt;br /&gt;We whisper we talk&lt;br /&gt;We sing our favourite song&lt;br /&gt;Then silence&lt;br /&gt;Nothing said&lt;br /&gt;Just the sound of heartbeats&lt;br /&gt;No I won’t speak&lt;br /&gt;Cause silence is when we speak the most&lt;br /&gt;The sky above so vast&lt;br /&gt;A single speck that’s what we are&lt;br /&gt;But in that silence&lt;br /&gt;You make me feel the worlds mine&lt;br /&gt;Mine too conquer mine for the taking&lt;br /&gt;I need not worry for tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;As long as I know you are there&lt;br /&gt;Even if the world was at an end&lt;br /&gt;All I’ll truly need is your hand&lt;br /&gt;The silence broken by a drop&lt;br /&gt;Then another and another&lt;br /&gt;We get wet but what the heck&lt;br /&gt;These are the moments that truly count&lt;br /&gt;The heavens are crying&lt;br /&gt;Not in pain and suffering&lt;br /&gt;But in the beauty of two people&lt;br /&gt;Able to share one thing in common&lt;br /&gt;That one thing the world needs&lt;br /&gt;That one piece of magic that truly exists&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;Nothing needs to be said or told&lt;br /&gt;Its there in front of us as the tale goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-8038223127728504674?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/8038223127728504674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=8038223127728504674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/8038223127728504674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/8038223127728504674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2007/09/hey-there.html' title=''/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-1946085488920240710</id><published>2007-08-21T23:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T02:12:23.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One heck of a gal!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_EEfdR8zhOJU/RxcjMM34nlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ocp5Go3KUzA/s1600-h/Copy+of+pevins+digital+camera+pictures+036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122601793678253650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_EEfdR8zhOJU/RxcjMM34nlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ocp5Go3KUzA/s320/Copy+of+pevins+digital+camera+pictures+036.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(my sis on the left and me on the right)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a lift&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No a looking tower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No it’s a lift&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking tower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lift&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking tower!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it goes on and on and on. Neither of us win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time we pass that building we always have the same argument. Its an ovelish sort of building with windows on its side. Each time we cycle or drive pass that area we begin bickering on which it is. And we continue bickering until mom or dad gives us a telling off for squabbling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s one of the MANY things my sis and me fight about. And trust me there’s a lot more from where that came from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sis and me have always been two sides of the same coin. Take our profiles for example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pevinder(my sister):&lt;br /&gt;Dead logical. Only smiles when the joke makes sense in her eyes. Needs her eight hour sleep or she’ll be cranky. Loves learning new things. Love staying at home. A TV addict. Also addicted to games, chocolate and cars. Rarely reads and writes. Always is the top two in her class. Responsible and has a fun personality but shows it to a rare few. Very shy person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meninder(me):&lt;br /&gt;Creative mind. Forever smiling and giggling. Can be really annoying. Survives on two hours of sleep daily but takes a twelve hour nap on Sundays. Forever on the move attending camps, family gatherings or just dancing in her own room. Hates the TV with a passion preferring to watch DVD’s on her comp or going out to the cinema. Reads too much and writes a lot. Plain crazy. Don’t ask about her position in class. Outgoing person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet we are the best of friends. We argue a lot but we make up faster then ever. She’s fun to be around and can be a bubbly person. I love her to bits and I always will. Life is sometimes the best when you share it with your best friends and it gets better when your best friend is your sister. There’s a huge different between friends and buddies. Buddies encourage you too jump of the cliff. Friends stop you from doing that. My sis has been with me through thick and thin. Even when the world left me alone she was there to hold my hand. And I love her for it. I always have and always will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s a funny thing that always happens when we fight. My mom always says. “Can’t you guys just be buds?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will always remain as FRIENDS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FYI we still haven’t found out whether that oval building is a looking tower or a lift. Somehow I just wanna leave it that way =P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-1946085488920240710?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/1946085488920240710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=1946085488920240710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/1946085488920240710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/1946085488920240710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2007/08/one-heck-of-gal.html' title='One heck of a gal!!'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_EEfdR8zhOJU/RxcjMM34nlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ocp5Go3KUzA/s72-c/Copy+of+pevins+digital+camera+pictures+036.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-3119079928494195199</id><published>2007-08-21T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T21:54:12.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Carpe Diem</title><content type='html'>“We are food for worms lads”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s what the professor tells them in one of the most heart wrenching films I have come too love. Carpe diem. Seize the day. The moment. The second.  The movie? Dead poets society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok I'm not going to go into detail about the movie because its something that needs too be watch to be truly appreciated. But what I am going to do is to talk about this one scene that means more to me then anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the proff takes them into this trophy kind of room and then asks one of the boys to recite the following verse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gather ye rose buds while ye may&lt;br /&gt;While time is still a flying&lt;br /&gt;and this same flower that smiles today&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow will be dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he goes on to say that the Latin word for the first line is carpe diem. So why does the poet say that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because we are food for worms lads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically what the entire speech is about is telling the world that look life isn’t around forever. One day we will all stop breathing. One day we will not exist. So whets the one thing we will leave behind? Our names, Our legacy and the things we did for society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is where the problem lays. The way I look at it there are to main categories of people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)      You have the category that is so self absorbed in their work they forget too enjoy life as it passes. They forget to live for the moment and too appreciate what they all ready have not what they are searching for from their chasing of material things. They are remembered for working hard.&lt;br /&gt;2)      The category that is too self absorbed enjoying themselves that they forget to leave something behind. The right legacy. The thing that will help people to remember them except for being a bunch of noisy louts. They are remembered for wasting their time having fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the song remember me from the movie troy? Where Achilles wants to be remembered for what ever he has done. He goes too troy even though he knows it means his death because he want his name to be remembered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People want to be remembered because they are afraid of being forgotten. They are afraid of really dying. So they do things that make people remember them. Through generations. Through lives. Through stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem begins when people want so hard to be remembered that they forget to live their lives to the full. They forget to seize the day, the moment. The fraction in time when the world is at peace without war. When the world is just with itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s what the professor tries to tell them. He’s telling them that no matter what your still going to be dead. No matter what you do life is going to end. So live it to the max while you can. Appreciate beauty. Appreciate the thing around you. Even monstrosity in its own way is beautiful. Its unique. Its life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living life is not about living for others. Its about finding your dreams and living it. Its about living the life you have always wanted to live. Its about being yourself no matter what you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok here I need to clarify one MAJOR THING. This is NOT a rebellious act. I repeat it is ABSOULUTELY NOT a rebellious act. I am not asking the world to drop everything and then want the world to work on its own. We all have rules to follow and we have too otherwise the world will be in chaos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I mean to say is that this is your life. Grab hold of it. Make a difference for yourself. Make something out of yourselves. Live your life in the way that you really want too. Ask yourself is what I’m doing really my choice? Is what I’m doing really the thing I want to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is life. Life is about seizing chances. Seizing the day. Carpe diem. And that’s a choice all of us have to make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what are we going to do now? Live to be remembered by the living? Or live for life itself.?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That the choice we all need to make. A choice that will differentiate the true winners and the true losers of life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-3119079928494195199?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/3119079928494195199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=3119079928494195199' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/3119079928494195199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/3119079928494195199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2007/08/carpe-diem.html' title='Carpe Diem'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-6084758535259452194</id><published>2007-08-17T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T18:29:48.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sanity lost for a temporary time duration of 7 minutes</title><content type='html'>“ Its ok to get an E for geography” goes my mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK before the next blogger shouts in utmost surprise and before someone takes a screw driver with an extra pair of screws to screw my head back on properly let me tell you that I was in a perfect state of mind at that moment of time because of the fact that it was the last day of my exams and I was looking forward to finishing of my exam paper.(my mom had also already had her morning dose of caffeine and was wide awake when she told me this)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am trying to eat something before the grand finale of my exams and my mom surprisingly told me that yeah its ok to fail my geo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Huh?!?” was my first reaction. My face resembled something to the likes of a fish out of water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my mom repeated herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Huh?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Huh?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the process repeated until the message finally sank in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wait mom you sure brownie didn’t bite you too hard or something?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup goes my mom again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weirdeness with my mom is a very very very very very very very very very&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RARE MOMMENT!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So just to double check I asked my sister to stand in the room with her both her ears open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom just rolls her eyes’ cackles and then says&lt;br /&gt;“I’m  going too change my mind if you say it again.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok ok so I shut up then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I did. Another rare moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Momments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some are weird and  some painful. Some are happy others are tearful. But each and every moment is worth more then anything. Each and every moment is cherished. All for different reasons. All for different stancses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was probably my most loved moment because it was a time when my entire family was sitting down(my dad as well but he was too dumbfounded to speak) and also a time when my mom temporarily lost her sanity. The sheer beauty of it was awesome. These are the memories and the fun I always remember having and the kind of things that I will always keep with me because even if I have nothing in the world I’ll always have the few things that no one can take away. My faith, The lord and my memorable moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are the true reasons why I always cherish all my moments. Because these moments will never leave me. Not truly anyway.&lt;br /&gt; (by the way mom regained her sanity after the exam and threatened me somewhat less then the death sentence if I didn’t pass. Fourtunately I still got my A. Another thing to always keep with me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-6084758535259452194?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/6084758535259452194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=6084758535259452194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/6084758535259452194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/6084758535259452194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2007/08/sanity-lost-for-temporary-time-duration.html' title='Sanity lost for a temporary time duration of 7 minutes'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307583123351085212.post-9133399657727567242</id><published>2007-08-07T03:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T03:35:18.248-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Hey so this is the first ever blogpost I'm handing over here and i neither know what I'm going to put here nor wonder how long these postings will keep up. =P Let see how long things last shall we? So whats my first post gonna be? wanna know? really want to know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;HEHE =P &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ok ok enough of humourless jokes. so what is sometimes? It is just that. Sometimes. Basically refers to the moments when we have no other explanation for. A collective noun for those uncountable momments. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;For me though, sometimes refers to the times i missed out on saying 'hey whats up?' or 'how you doing mate?' To me its those missed opportunities from which i felt that i could have said something more or said something less. Those times when i felt silence would speak more then words. Those are my sometimes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Thing is I will never get those 'sometimes' back. Those moments I lost will never return. Which add even more to my fear, the fear of losing someone without telling them how much i truly cared. Saddest thing is that these 'sometimes' will never return. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have yet too lose a loved one and God forbid should it happen anytime soon. One such example is my grandmum. She's not going to be around for long. Yet something still stops me from going up to her giveng her a hug and just saying how much i love her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I take comfort in knowing thant in some way or the other i will stop my 'sometimes' from growing. I can never make it shrink. I can stunt its growth. Thats the lucky thing about 'sometimes'. So here goes nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;till the next time we meet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;adioz sayonara and alvida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Meninder&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/307583123351085212-9133399657727567242?l=meninderkaur.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/feeds/9133399657727567242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=307583123351085212&amp;postID=9133399657727567242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/9133399657727567242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/307583123351085212/posts/default/9133399657727567242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meninderkaur.blogspot.com/2007/08/sometimes.html' title='Sometimes'/><author><name>A little window to my world</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10477993785146405061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WSdV7wU9yDU/TyfAjFfEH4I/AAAAAAAAACw/hbM4jXrFRx4/s220/IMG-20110526-00050.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
