<?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-3611589698744433660</id><updated>2011-11-03T06:36:27.523+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fureeeeeku!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-4543439245353714124</id><published>2008-05-04T08:00:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T08:06:29.984+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clolour dreams?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/dieyoung/1336982466/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/SB0ntmV4vRI/AAAAAAAAADw/l5UKZJD02uY/s320/untitled.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196353209395363090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;well, a stupid topic, i can see. but just thought of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;some people claim to have seen clolour dreams. and some say they never do. i am not sure of my dreams, but i think they are black and white.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;what kind of dreams do you see?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/dieyoung/1336982466/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;picture from here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-4543439245353714124?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/4543439245353714124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=4543439245353714124' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/4543439245353714124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/4543439245353714124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2008/05/clolour-dreams.html' title='Clolour dreams?'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/SB0ntmV4vRI/AAAAAAAAADw/l5UKZJD02uY/s72-c/untitled.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-712923985743980220</id><published>2008-05-02T09:00:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T09:00:01.325+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Useless things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;why do humans tend to do useless things so much. things which are completely useless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;inside a lift. the lift is going too slow for your liking. then you just keep pressing the close button, or the your floor button repeatedly, as if it will make it go faster.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;in a ferry, just entering the male' harbor, and a launch dashes out creating a big wave, which rocks the ferry. and all the people stare at the launch, as if that will undo the effect, or the launch people will see it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;you are near a table, you get impatient for something. and you keep hitting the table with all your might, as if that will make everything just the way you want.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;you are sitting in front of your pc, and it is stuck. and you just keep hitting the keys, or keep moving the mouse, as if it will unstuck the pc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;some one senior to you said something you didnt like, and turns around to walk away. and you bring out your tongue and make faces, as if you have had your revenge, and the senior would get hurt or something like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;i cant remember much right now. but im sure there are a lot more of these sort of thing humans tend to do often. useless things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-712923985743980220?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/712923985743980220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=712923985743980220' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/712923985743980220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/712923985743980220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2008/05/useless-things.html' title='Useless things'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-603587587027374011</id><published>2008-04-29T19:00:00.003+05:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T19:14:20.601+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Teachers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ts2.images.live.com/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=1567969968269&amp;amp;id=125414ba7aa2b8bbf7ef441359be18c0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 176px;" src="http://ts2.images.live.com/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=1567969968269&amp;amp;id=125414ba7aa2b8bbf7ef441359be18c0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;why are they all so bossy, and go by the book. havent they been studying like us, in their pasts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;seriously. some are so irritating. and i would like to say some are cool too. but right now i would like to talk about those irritating teachers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;i do feel like giving them a piece of my mind. if they are not in a good mood, then they give continuous sums for us to do without a break. and each period is whole 55 minutes. almost an hour. have they no mercy? and some just make us stay in the class room / laboratory even if we dont have anything to do, just because they can. arrrgh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;and when we tell that they have been like us some time back, they just give us a deaf ear. some tell that they also went through the tough days like us, and that they withstood it all. but still....it isnt every day that we dont feel like staying in the class rooms. so why cant they understand?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;cant they just give us the freedom of going to the classes or not, without making us bring an untruthful letter to them the next day we come. why should they force us to study. those who want can come right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;picture taken from live earch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-603587587027374011?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/603587587027374011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=603587587027374011' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/603587587027374011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/603587587027374011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2008/04/teachers.html' title='Teachers'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-3042768618103645492</id><published>2008-04-25T14:40:00.003+05:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T00:08:12.355+05:00</updated><title type='text'>My brother</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R82e_BmUGnI/AAAAAAAAAC8/FEScY-hbiI8/s320/DSC00314+%281%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 308px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R82e_BmUGnI/AAAAAAAAAC8/FEScY-hbiI8/s320/DSC00314+%281%29.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there he is. yeah, thats my new brother. the third brother i got. i dont have any sisters. the one i was about to get died a couple of hours before bi&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;rth. i &lt;/span&gt;still feel sad about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);" href="http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-sister.html"&gt;my sister&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;but i am not unhappy about getting this brother. no, im not. my parents arent sad. to me they are very happy, so why should i be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;ps: this blog is subject to changes in the near future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-3042768618103645492?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/3042768618103645492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=3042768618103645492' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/3042768618103645492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/3042768618103645492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-brother.html' title='My brother'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R82e_BmUGnI/AAAAAAAAAC8/FEScY-hbiI8/s72-c/DSC00314+%281%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-3905031888613584313</id><published>2007-05-15T21:40:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T11:43:01.615+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuppy Cake...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/Rkne7n2GhII/AAAAAAAAABs/YitS8DAhtd4/s1600-h/foru.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064824371844383874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/Rkne7n2GhII/AAAAAAAAABs/YitS8DAhtd4/s400/foru.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;"&gt;This is a song which is rather nice for me...I like it very much. It is also the song which is played most in our office now, and all of them just love this song [specially &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://shweet-butterfly.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;sHweeeeeT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;"&gt;]. It has been some time since this song has been playing in our office, yet no one is bored of it, they just keep repeating on and on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You're my Honeybunch, Sugarplum&lt;br /&gt;Pumpy-umpy-umpkin, You're my Sweetie Pie&lt;br /&gt;You're my Cuppycake, Gumdrop&lt;br /&gt;Snoogums-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Boogums, You're the Apple of my Eye&lt;br /&gt;And I love you so and I want you to know&lt;br /&gt;That I'll always be right here&lt;br /&gt;And I love to sing&lt;/span&gt; sweet songs to you&lt;br /&gt;Because you are so dear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Kindah babish, but thats it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;you can download an &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://h1.ripway.com/fiaas/CuPPyCaKe.mp3"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;mp3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; format of this song, or see the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=12Z6pWhM6TA&amp;amp;NR=1"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;original&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; video in &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;youtube&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Have fun...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-3905031888613584313?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/3905031888613584313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=3905031888613584313' title='31 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/3905031888613584313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/3905031888613584313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2007/05/cuppy-cake.html' title='Cuppy Cake...'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/Rkne7n2GhII/AAAAAAAAABs/YitS8DAhtd4/s72-c/foru.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>31</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-8550450238678939827</id><published>2007-05-12T10:00:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T06:50:47.771+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/RkU6Q32GhHI/AAAAAAAAABk/AQdtc_UVvOs/s1600-h/needle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/RkU6Q32GhHI/AAAAAAAAABk/AQdtc_UVvOs/s400/needle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063517417591178354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Fear in one's self can be the cause of most of the pain in one's life. It is the fear in you that doesn't allow you to have a happy life. Have no, or less fear, and you will be surprised at the results. Look at life brightly, and life will look at you brightly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was last year when I had to test for Thalassaemia, due to some difficulties I was facing. Waiting outside I was a little nervous. As long as I remember, I feared the NEEDLE. Even seeing it makes me kind of sick. Anyway I was not a kid then. I kept thinking, if I keep thinking it will be pain full, it will be, and if I think otherwise, there will be no pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;When I entered there were 2 nurses and a boy younger than me. It was him who took blood from me. I showed no expression on my face, and kept thinking that there will be no pain. Sure enough, as I watched the needle go through my skin, I didn't feel any pain. Honestly I was surprised.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Due to some other things, I had to take blood from me for about 4 times that week. Twice from IGMH after taking blood from Thalassaemia Center. Later that week, I was told to redo the Thalassaemia test, from Thalassaemia Center. It seems that they didn't get any results. Well, I thought....'all these times there was no pain, wonder what will happen if I keep thinking there will be pain....'. So that was exactly what I did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;To my horror and surprise, It &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt; painful. My eyes were tear strained. But it was the same boy who took blood from me the first time too. And after reaching home also, the pain didn't go. Dear me...after taking blood 3 times that week, and to get pain this last time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;So I believe there is something in what you believe. It sure is astounding for me. well...if you are interested in my Thalassaemia results, there aren't any. Strange huh? Yeah, for me too! They asked to do some DNA tests, well thats too much, so we let it be...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-8550450238678939827?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/8550450238678939827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=8550450238678939827' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/8550450238678939827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/8550450238678939827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2007/05/fear.html' title='Fear....'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/RkU6Q32GhHI/AAAAAAAAABk/AQdtc_UVvOs/s72-c/needle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-8004055753166725554</id><published>2007-05-10T14:00:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T14:06:29.577+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Appreciation...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/RkLfv32GhGI/AAAAAAAAABc/QVfP6nS0lXw/s1600-h/Image_18.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062854944655574114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 319px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="150" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/RkLfv32GhGI/AAAAAAAAABc/QVfP6nS0lXw/s400/Image_18.jpg" width="199" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There are a lot of people doing hard work all around the world. Some do it just for fun, but most others do it to earn a living. There are also people doing hard work because they are supposed to do it. Or becuase there is no alternative.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What ever the situation, every one will be longing for a word of appreciation. It is better than giving a pay. It works best when some one gets a word of appreciation, when he/she is least expecting it. Numerous number of emotional feeling go throuh your mind. Your heart softens, even if you are at the middle of a furious argument. You will find a special place in your heart for him/her.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thinking of how nice it feels to be appreciated, I would also like to shed a light on how it would feel like to be not appreciated. Maybe you might not be expecting a word of apprication after finishing a hard work. But if you were, then there will be hatred within you. You will not be willing to work for him/her. Every time you see him/her, you will want to go away.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So please make sure that if any one works for you, or if some one helps you, be sure to appreciate their work. That will make you and them happy. There will be friendliness between all.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The picture above is a rose I gave to my mother, a simple thing that I hope will make her smile, and understand that I appreciate her work, and everything. That is a rose I got from a dinner at Paradise. I came home late that night, so I kept the flower on her purse and slept. When I woke up that was what she had done with the rose :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-8004055753166725554?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/8004055753166725554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=8004055753166725554' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/8004055753166725554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/8004055753166725554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2007/05/appreciation.html' title='Appreciation...'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/RkLfv32GhGI/AAAAAAAAABc/QVfP6nS0lXw/s72-c/Image_18.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-1933184997352035476</id><published>2007-05-08T00:50:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T00:47:14.655+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Death....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/Rj-AgH2GhFI/AAAAAAAAABU/dqzokEDUjTo/s1600-h/Cemetry_by_FuocoGotico.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 364px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/Rj-AgH2GhFI/AAAAAAAAABU/dqzokEDUjTo/s400/Cemetry_by_FuocoGotico.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061905795537863762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);font-family:verdana;" &gt;It cannot b ne closer than u....as it is the closest thing to u.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I dont hav much to say abt death. Just keep remembering abt it and do ur deeds accordingly...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Every one will face it, no one escapes it. It is a pain, which v must pray to b lessened. [hudhu fothi gandakah mohoru jahafa fothigandu dhamaigathyma vaa goiy furaana ah vaane, alhu gandah engifa vaa gothun].&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Loosing a loved one doesnt mean u have to scream and shout, as he/she can c everything u r doing. After death, ur soul will know whether ur report card is nice or not. If a solih human died, kashu kama kemyga ulhey meehunnah varah hiy hama jehumuge ihsaas thah kurevey kamuga vey, as the soul will b impatient with burial. But if the souls has a bad report comming, it will b angry at how fast the people are burying him/her. Sum times it is said that the people working had faced frightening expreiences too. But it is not good to say "when v were burying **** v faced this and that". Coz that means the humans pride will be lost in the living world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);font-family:verdana;" &gt;Death can meet ne one at ne time. Just be ready for it.....there was a touching story in sum dharuma. I hope to publish it soon. Ne way dont forget death ingey, dont fear it. Which means be in a ready state, what eva time, where eva :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-1933184997352035476?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/1933184997352035476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=1933184997352035476' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/1933184997352035476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/1933184997352035476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2007/05/death.html' title='Death....'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/Rj-AgH2GhFI/AAAAAAAAABU/dqzokEDUjTo/s72-c/Cemetry_by_FuocoGotico.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-7080909221555345635</id><published>2007-05-06T01:30:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T08:48:54.675+05:00</updated><title type='text'>I am sorry...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/Rj6gyn2GhEI/AAAAAAAAABM/ukTCNMWpP4o/s1600-h/___am_sorry____by_DreeamyEyes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 342px; height: 235px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/Rj6gyn2GhEI/AAAAAAAAABM/ukTCNMWpP4o/s320/___am_sorry____by_DreeamyEyes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061659822760821826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-size:110;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;All humans make mistakes. To own up to them means that u have made up ur mind not to do the same mistake again. But denying means that u plan to do it again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-size:110;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;It is not v easy to say sorry after u do sumthing real bad. But the small word sure brings a lot of changes. Ur heart gets soft and u will eventually neglect the incident too. Just dont hesitate to say sorry, what eva the situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-size:110;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;It is a small word which brings numerous changes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-7080909221555345635?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/7080909221555345635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=7080909221555345635' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/7080909221555345635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/7080909221555345635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-am-sorry.html' title='I am sorry...'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/Rj6gyn2GhEI/AAAAAAAAABM/ukTCNMWpP4o/s72-c/___am_sorry____by_DreeamyEyes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-8148880000788076456</id><published>2007-05-04T19:30:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T15:54:52.738+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Past...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204); TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/RjtBg32GhDI/AAAAAAAAABE/t9iUKdrvbxk/s1600-h/past.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060710639283373106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/RjtBg32GhDI/AAAAAAAAABE/t9iUKdrvbxk/s400/past.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" &gt;Every one will have a past, that is a fact which no human can change. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204); FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;But there is a fact that some humans are haunted with their pasts. They are bothered in the worst of the times with their pasts, so that their fun is lost. Making all the other friends sad, not allowing them to have real fun, while u r in a depressed mode. Most of the time...we just feel sympathatic abt them, and cant help, as they just say..."nothing's wrong". Rare times we just feel irritated.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204); FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;I&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;t turns out to a nice ending, if u r told whats wrong with them. Perhaps u cant help them. But actually listening to them is a big help...i think. He/she will also feel quite at ease. Maybe lean on ur shoulder, or show his/her emotions in another way. That is if u r told abt the past, which was bothering him/her. Then u will also feel at ease. Maybe u will also think of a lil abt ur own past, and perhaps share it with him/her.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204); FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Every one will have a past, and there is no specific time for u to think of it, to be remembered abt it....[thats what i think] Let it be a party, a dinner in a resort, an office trip or any thing. There is nothing wrong abt it, but i think it is wise to share it with sumone whom u trust. Just dont keep it in only ur head.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204); FONT-FAMILY: arial" align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Well, there are sweet memories of the past too, hehe. But i dont think ne one is facing troubles with them...right? :p &lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204)"&gt;Time to go...hope to meet u soon. Just dont bother abt ur sad pasts on ur own, share it and bear it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-family:arial;" align="justify" &gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;PS: This is written with inspirations from a girl who faced a similar problem. I would like to thank her for sharing her feelings with me. Thanks......^_^&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-8148880000788076456?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/8148880000788076456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=8148880000788076456' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/8148880000788076456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/8148880000788076456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2007/05/past.html' title='Past...'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/RjtBg32GhDI/AAAAAAAAABE/t9iUKdrvbxk/s72-c/past.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-3317571448719476441</id><published>2007-04-24T07:50:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T08:24:52.762+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Male' is not crowded....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://freespace.virgin.net/brian.elwell/crowded%20city.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-size:115%;" &gt;Why do some people say that Male' is crowded? I just don't think it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-size:115%;" &gt;I was walking from my office to my home, when i noticed this, that Male'  is not crowded.  I had a conference in the office and it was late. Around 12:30 am. I had walked for about 5-7 minutes when i noticed it. There was traffic as if it was night 8:00pm. I did look at my watch to make sure whether it was really 12:30 am. It was. But the traffic was no less.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-size:115%;" &gt;Even in the supposed to be dead of the night, there is traffic on the roads. Not heavy traffic, but enough. Some time back, at the dead of the night you will be able to see only a few pedestrians. But this value has increased in a very short time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-size:115%;" &gt;Due to the area of the ground being full, the buildings have started reaching for the stars. Some buildings are in a dangerous state too. With a small area base, and a height improper to its base. It seems that now law does not allow us to build like that. Law has a scale to set the height of a building, according to its base. This also shows that there are more than enough inhabitants in Male'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-size:115%;" &gt;Where ever we go, be it an Office, a Bank, an evening walk, you see the place full of people. More like packed sardines. If a car pauses in front of a house, it doesn't take 3 minutes for the annoying honks of motor cycles to begin....non stop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-size:115%;" &gt;It is very clear, right? Male' is not crowded, as you can see. Male' is just OVER CROWDED.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-3317571448719476441?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/3317571448719476441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=3317571448719476441' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/3317571448719476441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/3317571448719476441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2007/04/male-is-not-crowded.html' title='Male&apos; is not crowded....'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-7737383621728841843</id><published>2007-04-10T07:50:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T16:36:55.287+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is fair....</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://h1.ripway.com/fiaas/Images/blogspot/fair.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-size:130%;" &gt;It is a common word for us to hear "life is so unfair". A lot of us think that life is just cruel. Many don't even try to think about the things going on, just take the decision that life is unfair, after a simple event.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-size:130%;" &gt;If we think carefully, all the things going on are for a purpose. You are on earth for a purpose too. When something bad happens, you will feel hopeless. You may want to die. But few know that it is a test. what we call an 'imthihaan'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,204);font-size:130%;" &gt;Any way you cant say life is unfair, after looking at the unfair punishments given to people, looking at the cruel deeds done by others and by the misfortune events happening to you. It is because this isn't "the life". The life is yet to come. There truth will be revealed. Everything will be fair. And then 'the life' will be fair, for eternity....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-7737383621728841843?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/7737383621728841843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=7737383621728841843' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/7737383621728841843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/7737383621728841843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2007/04/life-is-fair.html' title='Life is fair....'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-1204250512557913583</id><published>2007-04-03T09:30:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T01:00:17.969+05:00</updated><title type='text'>My sister....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://h1.ripway.com/fiaas/Images/blogspot/me_and_my_sister___sketch_by_ultimachan.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-size:115;" &gt;Being the eldest brings happy emotions to me...many emotions. With 2 other younger bros, I have been living.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-size:115;" &gt;Since I became mature enough, enough to understand the life, the events happening around me...I had wanted a sister. A sibling sister. I hear some of my friends talking about their sisters. As I was in Majeedhiyya, I hear these stories quite often. Well, their are some times talks which you won't call so nice, but common. Like &lt;i&gt;"kokko set kohdheyn v nu&lt;/i&gt;". Well, honestly, I don't have , didn't have, and surely will not have any of those thoughts. But I had wanted a sister.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-size:115;" &gt;I hear stories from few girl friends too. [NOTE: That is not Gf....it is female friends]. I listen in awe to their stories, of how they admire their brothers. How their brothers had helped them, how they have shared secrets with them, secrets from their own parents. I think it was cool. Ever since I began to understand...I wanted a sis. To help her. To share secrets. To tease. To cry with. To laugh with. To laugh at.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-size:115;" &gt;It was the year 2005 when I knew my mother was pregnant. I thought...&lt;i style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;"no wonder both parents were so happy lately"&lt;/i&gt;. Well, as you may have guessed, I was happy. Very happy. I hoped it would be a girl this time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-size:115;" &gt;One of my younger brothers have died in her womb, few months before birth. It was the brother next to me. She didn't give birth to him. Cesarean was done. She was in dad's island, and didn't get much medical treatment. She tells that she told repeatedly to the health assistants that there was no movement in her belly...she blamed them. I also blame them. I don't remember those days, guess I was too young.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-size:115;" &gt;As this incident also had happened, and it was a boy....she haven't got a girl all together... Every time after prayers, I have prayed repeatedly...&lt;i style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;"Oh God!...please let it be a girl this time....please..!"&lt;/i&gt; Before the waiting time came...I had so much imagination going on inside me....all these years hope. My parents dreams. I actually didn't know how I felt....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-size:115;" &gt;Days passed....and one day after coming home from a scanning session, she told that the doctors informed that it was a girl. Well...u know how that would make us feel. But we never believed it 100%. There was a little doubt. It is god who is responsible for these things...and there just might be a fault with the machine.....who knows....only god knows...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-size:115;" &gt;Finally the day came...she was in labor room. Dad was with her. I was in charge of my two brothers. Dad didn't even call even in the afternoon. Guess he was too happy to give the news. That evening a sister (dhuru dhatha eh) came and told us to get ready to visit my mom. We were excited. We got ready and went. She was in IGMH.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-size:115;" &gt;Walking along the corridor...towards the wards...my heart kept drumming in my chest....[it is right now even, as i am writing this part]. We entered the ward. There were so many people around my mothers bed. Some from my mothers island. Some from my fathers island. Some their friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-size:115;" &gt;I stopped in my tracks. THERE WAS NO BABY. They were all CRYING!!! I wasn't unconscious...but I wasn't conscious either...I was in a daze till I came to villingili that night...didn't even notice the ferry. I was too sad to stop crying in front of all those people...neither were my mom and dad. She got a girl....and the girl died.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-size:115;" &gt;I did go to her funeral...there was no kashu namadhu, as she didn't breath through her nose....yes, she died 2-3 hours before birth. The doctors are to be blamed. They had repeatedly tried, and sent her home, while she was saying that she felt pain in her stomach. At funeral I was a little calm...but at the moment dad put the cotton piece on her face...I just couldn't hold back. I cried and sobbed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);font-size:115;" &gt;All my dreams....shattered. All my hopes... Just think how my parents would have felt. All these years hope....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:115;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:115;" &gt;&lt;i&gt;But you will be there right? You may not have seen this world....but You are there right? You didn't see us....still you saw us right? Please tell me....tell me you will be there for us....tell me you will meet us....there is a day....Oh! God....Please let us meet her...she is not dead in me...I'm sure she is alive in my parents heart too....please....say that you love us too....I will never forget you....I love you sister!..........&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I love you&lt;/span&gt;.....&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-1204250512557913583?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/1204250512557913583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=1204250512557913583' title='53 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/1204250512557913583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/1204250512557913583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-sister.html' title='My sister....'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><thr:total>53</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3611589698744433660.post-1239082596974079522</id><published>2007-03-25T14:03:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T19:51:31.045+05:00</updated><title type='text'>back after construction.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#80ff00"&gt;As i am back from construction, i have changed the animation ^_^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.skyalbum.com/album/fiaas/2007-04-03/20070403100817.swf" width="400" height="400" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3611589698744433660-1239082596974079522?l=fureeku.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/feeds/1239082596974079522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3611589698744433660&amp;postID=1239082596974079522' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/1239082596974079522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3611589698744433660/posts/default/1239082596974079522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fureeku.blogspot.com/2007/03/blog-post.html' title='back after construction.....'/><author><name>Fureeeeeku!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11910311316953637701</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0GVuwTitdWw/R-p8NbiiEDI/AAAAAAAAADI/QXnJwyFb5w0/S220/blue.JPG'/></author><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry></feed>
