<?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-3252395704540090364</id><updated>2011-07-07T22:19:19.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Real Me</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Shanoof Basheer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04258617749216600803</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3252395704540090364.post-2214078770227745575</id><published>2011-01-26T09:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T09:20:34.148-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange, but True!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We are so obsessed with people we love to see, to talk and spend time with them. But little do we know that there are truly some people who you never took care of, love you the most. When you come to know that they really care you, they even remember you every occasion you have met and you don’t remember, it’s really shame on us to not recognize who are our real well-wishers. We often go by impression that those who are with us and one who spends time with us are our well-wishers. But, there are people who will see you from far, love you, do good things for you and one day will tell you how they feel for you. They are &lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;. It’s just you don’t recognize them initially. Destiny, Give me enough strength to leave all my obsessions and live with people who love me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3252395704540090364-2214078770227745575?l=bshanoof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/feeds/2214078770227745575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3252395704540090364&amp;postID=2214078770227745575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/2214078770227745575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/2214078770227745575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/2011/01/strange-but-true.html' title='Strange, but True!'/><author><name>Shanoof Basheer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04258617749216600803</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3252395704540090364.post-2666091325642261781</id><published>2011-01-24T05:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T05:40:46.601-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Solitude</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Privacy is really a thing! But lately could not pass time or feeling extremely abnormal when you spend time alone. Though I hate living with too much people, I hate living alone too. Both sucks. It’s like a torture to mind with impending things that were reminded during these hours. Planning them in advance makes mind more stressful. Though one longs for freedom, I am realizing the importance of the family with you when you much need them. Staying alone really sucks even if you like to be in solitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst of all is the compelling things that tell you to keep things straight yet you tend to stray. Bless me! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3252395704540090364-2666091325642261781?l=bshanoof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/feeds/2666091325642261781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3252395704540090364&amp;postID=2666091325642261781' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/2666091325642261781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/2666091325642261781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/2011/01/solitude.html' title='Solitude'/><author><name>Shanoof Basheer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04258617749216600803</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3252395704540090364.post-3743170673304775435</id><published>2010-03-06T23:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T05:47:49.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I could post this in FB. But I don’t want anyone to get hurt. The thing I want to discuss here is about the comments the people give for their friends. Especially girls :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A girl posts her picture in the facebook after thinking innumerable times whether she looks good in the picture.The moment she finish her month-long thinking and enquiring her friends about the photo, she finally releases her photo in the profile, as if she has taken a masterpiece and zeroing the date for its release. LOL :) Notifications goes to all of her friends. She eagerly awaits and stays in facebook for the whole day ;) A bored guy logs into the system, sees that she has posted her photo, thinks not bad, but types, ‘you look gorgeous’ / ‘is that you? ‘ / blah blah blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl thinks that it is a great compliment for her. She flies for sometime. Knowing that the bored guy has made the comment, another bored guy logs in and just helps her to fly even higher, by liking it :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But little did the girl know that it is the strategy followed by the guys to make her post more photo :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So finally another guy who doesn’t know who she is ,logs in sees all her photos and pass the time. FB rocks!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3252395704540090364-3743170673304775435?l=bshanoof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/feeds/3743170673304775435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3252395704540090364&amp;postID=3743170673304775435' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/3743170673304775435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/3743170673304775435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-could-post-this-in-fb.html' title='Funny!'/><author><name>Shanoof Basheer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04258617749216600803</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3252395704540090364.post-1518898013955729144</id><published>2009-04-12T01:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T05:49:03.801-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Purpose of Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Each living creature born in the Universe should have some purpose. I am yet to discover mine. I don’t believe in theism. Yet, there is some power or energy exist that rules the Universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a matter of fact, there are many things that give the individuals a high. For now, riding bike in a highway gives me a high. But I believe this is not fixed. It tends to change. I loved to play video games when I was a teenager. But not any more. So, at each stage of life there is something that always gives one a high. Future is always mysterious. But that aspect keeps one engross to achieve ones plan. Nothing is permanent except change. Embracing change is one way of keep things moving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet learning to control mind is more important than anything else. There can be lot of things to achieve this, like meditation, yoga etc. But my humble opinion is no one can control the mind most effectively. If he can, he is Power or in the most effective broad term – God. Most of the saints claim they achieved this. After all human body is the most complex machine in the Universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the human creatures dream to be somebody else. If I am rich, If I studied better, If I got up early, If I am him, If I got the opportunity. If, If and If in everything. If - only comes after one admits failure. I am trying to not use If for my failures. People, I am not advising I am just spitting out my sub conscience thoughts. I am an absolute dreamer. But its good as far as I don’t demand to happen in reality. Dream world is different from this Universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I imagined a strange thing few days back. I thought myself as an animal and I tried to learn/see the things surrounding me. I was awe-struck, in an unexplainable situation. Even I don’t realize what is happening around. When my sub conscience brought me back to the reality, everything seems to be normal. I have to admit, Life is a strange correlated sequence of events. Men have hard-coded in the brain that everything in the Universe is for him. This thought should have evolved when Men learned things for survival……&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3252395704540090364-1518898013955729144?l=bshanoof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/feeds/1518898013955729144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3252395704540090364&amp;postID=1518898013955729144' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/1518898013955729144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/1518898013955729144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/2009/04/purpose-of-life.html' title='Purpose of Life'/><author><name>Shanoof Basheer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04258617749216600803</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3252395704540090364.post-2522200750006016775</id><published>2008-08-19T05:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T05:20:37.701-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuning Me</title><content type='html'>Some words we say, might really hurt some one, though we didnt mean to. If it is not face to face communication , its worse because we dont know what the opponent thinks or how he/she reacts. If it means to hurt some one i would rather prefer to be dumb than speaking out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The attitude of each person differs from the other in some way. Everyone doesnt think in a right way. When we come to know that what we said or what we did, hurt some one, we realise how foolish we are. For that moment, it might seems to be funny. But if he/she carries it over it may really hurt. When you take the freedom in hand, there is always a limit. A really good friend can tolerate. But then the newly found might not match our frequency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am always afraid of egoist or self-centered fellows. But we can figure them out easily with little effort. I myself have found many. Once confirmed, i never get back to them whatever happens. So i am tuning myself to be mute whenever needed and speak out whenever i should.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3252395704540090364-2522200750006016775?l=bshanoof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/feeds/2522200750006016775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3252395704540090364&amp;postID=2522200750006016775' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/2522200750006016775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/2522200750006016775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/2008/08/tuning-me.html' title='Tuning Me'/><author><name>Shanoof Basheer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04258617749216600803</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3252395704540090364.post-2220887454964383495</id><published>2008-08-07T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T05:49:52.439-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A trip to Bangalore</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Weeks went by without notice. I have begun to think of why i am here. Why should i work hard? Where are those days we had an absolute harmony? My heart asked me what makes me happy. Train of thoughts..Finally i have decided to meet my close friends who are not with me ,but near by heart and far by geography.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happened on Thursday evening. If i have to book train i have only one day remaining.I called couple of my friends to join. But it was so crude to ask them to accompany without prior planning. I decided to leave alone and told my friends especially Sen that i am coming. I made a call to my parents and said i am leaving to bangalore on friday evening. I convinced my mother but my father was little worried about the bomb blasts that happened previous week. But i have already made my mind and said him that i will be safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I boarded the train "Mysore Express" just in time. My calculations went wrong when i learnt that each section contains 9 berths. I got middle berth which is supposed to be Side Upper if each section contains 8 berths. I waited for TTR. I showed my ticket and went to sleep.But i didnt. How in earth one would sleep if he ought to know that he has to wake at 3:00 AM if he has to get down the train in time.I reached Krishnarajapuram and i got down the train. I personally dont like to wake people during sleep. Even during semesters i have let many people to sleep. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The previous day Sen gave me a clear idea of where his home is and thanks to google maps using using which i took a print of the area. I came out of the station, i started to walk with the help of map. I was alone. Vehicles went past, fast back and forth. I gave a ring to Senthil and dropped the line. My idea was if he can really wake he would have got up at that time. I thought he was really tired. With help of two landmarks Royal Heritage and Mphasis, i tracked down his area. Atlast i was forced to wake him up, he told me the route to his home and when i was about to reach Kemp's apartment, Police got hold of me. They enquired me. I told everything i could. Then they asked me to be safe and left the place.Atlast, Sen came down and we two went back to his room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The area is residential and good for bachelors.The 2 BHK is good and three of them can stay comfortably. Sen and i started to plan about next couple of days. It was sad that we missed Praveen as he was out of station. The next day, the fun begun. I was the first to got up. I slept barely two hours. But i was not tired, rather i was thrilled. Then, woke up Nirmal. He was one innocent,extremely good ,God-fearing guy. We talked after a long time. I remembered it was birthday of Prabhakaran. I wished him and said that i have a plan for a get together. He agreed. We departed to Mani's home and asked Musi to join.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised that mani's room mates are seniors and very interesting guys.We ate at Anjappar and left to roam the cities.We reached Brigade Road and was awe-struck with the environment. Everyone was busy walking, talking. We were not talking about ourselves but about them. We roamed the street twice. :-) Then we went to M.G Road.We went inside Bangalore central. Senthil was searching a dress for his sisters's baby girl. We got one cute dress and came to the billing area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to Karuda Mall. We sat in the front corridor and we were at work, no we didnt meant that we had laptops. But we were at work. Karuda mall has nice sculptures and beautiful carvings. Yes i know its not Ajanta and Ellora. But i am not lying. As a true artist, we appreciated nice sculptures but we didnt had any -ve comments but rather we made them happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And i forgot that i have to meet other friends. I told nith and vp that i am coming. But i didnt called them yet. Later we devised a plan to meet at dinner. But then it would be difficult for others to join. Nith and Vp are good friends from college days. I called them and informed them that we would have a get together the day after.We went back to mani's room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In mani's room we were talking,acting,dancing and thinking. Mani and i even decided a script. But we didnt had time to execute it due to lack of actors ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day i called Mandlin and Joel who were in electronic city. We met them in Koramangala Forum. Mandlin was my room mate for all the four years in hostel. We were very close. We utilised the time utmost by snapping some shots and window shopping.Later i called Nith, vp and pad to join us. They agreed. I called my other class mates also but due to the lack of time they didnt turned up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We zeroed in an area. It is Indira Nagar. As usual nith started her eating spree with coconut drink. When we arrived there, nith,vp and prabhakaran were already there. We waited for pad and Nirmal to join us. We had a nice time talking, standing beside KFC.We were pulling each other legs. We opened the choculate offered by Prabhakaran and shared among us.We then zeroed in a place for lunch, decided by Nith.We ordered a table for 9 and gave them mobile number to call us back.Then we had a great lunch. We almost spend one and half hour in hotel. Then there was a drizzle. The climate is just perfect.Then the time came for departure. First nith departed then one by one. Atlast we went back to mani's home and i packed my things. I left mani's place and went with Senthil to board the the train in the station where i came from Chennai - Krishnarajapuram.I told Senthil that i was fine and i can depart on my own as i dont want him to return back at the weird hous(mid night).We saw 7/g for some time and i said bye and left the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly a sense of loneliness surrounded me. A desolated feeling. All that happened were so sweet but at the same time it was withdrawn before i realize.Legs failed to take another step. Right and Left of me, there was no one. Darkness feels for me by being silent. Dogs failed to bark seeing me. Moon hide her face behind the clouds.I was on the way to railway station walking.I reached railway station. Platform looked deserted except for two or three who were far from me and waiting for the train. I sat on a bench. I thought about the two days, how nice it was.Life does teaches us a lot in most hardest way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met by chance, destiny made us friends and made us close by keeping us far from each other to learn life in harder way. Life is really a lesson. Not sweet always!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S we means Sen,Musi,Mani and me where ever applicable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3252395704540090364-2220887454964383495?l=bshanoof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/feeds/2220887454964383495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3252395704540090364&amp;postID=2220887454964383495' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/2220887454964383495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/2220887454964383495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/2008/08/trip-to-bangalore.html' title='A trip to Bangalore'/><author><name>Shanoof Basheer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04258617749216600803</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3252395704540090364.post-3269292568542625520</id><published>2008-07-01T02:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T11:40:38.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A bachelor’s life</title><content type='html'>Its past 1:00 AM midnight. Yet a work to do – have to wash clothes. I usually pack up the clothes for washing when leaving to my native and return back and use them until they pile up and leave me with no set of dress. That’s when I realize that I have to wash. Washing clothes is not at all a tough job but doing it after midnight is disgusting. The reason is ‘laziness’. Some one probably God ( not a great believer of &lt;em&gt;HIM&lt;/em&gt;) might have set an alarm/deadline to do something. Its when we realize and start doing it with utmost hard work. Like  we do for exams. After finishing the work we realize why  couldn’t we do this before. But there is always a thrill in doing it some time late. Late yet latest.&lt;br /&gt;                             &lt;br /&gt;Not only washing clothes, there are numerous thing that one comes to know in bachelor’s life which is completely unknown before.  When you search for food, I often think why the hell I want to eat. Hence, end up eating all junk foods. I really miss my mom’s cuisine. Being in hostel for four years I always longed for it. The breakfast you get then at time . The care she takes in everything, the way he keeps providing good  nutritious stuffs. Be it a fruit salad or even a small cup of refreshing tea. Life teaches many things at different stages of life. One of the crucial stage is – bachelor’s life. No wonder that many of the guys are getting married at early stage, now-a –days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biological clock has changed. Not now it happened long back. I had a habit of sleeping at nine when I was in higher secondary  and would wake up at the time I feel comfortable. Probably before sun rise. But now, all the little dangerous things ( laptop, orkut,gmail,computer games blah…blah) make one wake like an owl and sleep at time when the next day has started and get up at time when your mom start cooking lunch in your home. Never seen sun rise since I joined. In fact never seen six or seven ‘ 0 clock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually like to be in solitude for at least some time in a week. But now-a-days I couldn’t. I feel nostalgic. Thank Me, I got introduced to a lot of friends. May be that might have changed the feeling of wanting to be secluded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love non-veg and have the habit of eating it alone. Yet I didn’t gain weight at school/college. But less than a year I gained 10 kgs. Its an alarming increase in my physic. One of my uncle who returned from KSA failed to wave his hand thinking that I am a stranger. I approached him and introduced. He was floored. Appearances also changes at times!!  What else life has to teach me, looking forward!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brain stopped working after auto-executing &lt;em&gt;onmode  –yuck&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to bring online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;oninit&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memory could not be initialized. System might not be ready or inactive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to restore &lt;em&gt;onbar_d  -r –p&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Physical restore impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything sstopped working. Process killed itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unexpected Shutdown!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3252395704540090364-3269292568542625520?l=bshanoof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/feeds/3269292568542625520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3252395704540090364&amp;postID=3269292568542625520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/3269292568542625520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/3269292568542625520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/2008/07/bachelors-life.html' title='A bachelor’s life'/><author><name>Shanoof Basheer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04258617749216600803</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3252395704540090364.post-2507185311506437076</id><published>2008-04-24T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T08:29:17.131-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An exciting train journey</title><content type='html'>I left my office at 9:20 PM to catch the Cheran Express. I was allocated RAC 7 when I booked the ticket. I checked the status of my ticket online and confirmed that I was allocated s11,7. I hired an auto , shared with another companion and headed to Central. I reached Central at 10:00 PM. I saw the LED display and confirmed that the train was in 10th platform. I planned to get a parcel from Mary Brown for dinner. But it was too late. So I went to see where I am put in. Gosh ! I was walking and walking for nearly ten minutes, almost covering the length of the train. I glanced at each compartment, just eager to know the different peoples and their activities inside the train. In S9 there were full of girls. I wondered what would have happened if I got there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reached my compartment S11 . I went in. What a shock!. Five girls and one couple. I am alone. I realized that I didn’t had dinner. I went out of the compartment to look what was in the store. I bought a bottle of mineral water,an Amul’s Cool Coffee and a GoodDay biscuit and I saw something is moving behind me. It was my train. I went in to S9 which was near to me and the bunch of girls were all over there. I wondered whether it was a Ladies Compartment. Somehow I went into mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My berth is side lower. TTR came and the checking was finished. My berth seat was made flat I thought everyone are going to sleep. But it didn’t happen. As the berth was made flat I was leaning on the side window and the cool breeze entered all over me. So I was facing almost all girls except one who got side upper and she was sitting beside me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 and 2 are occupied by a couple. 3 is empty. 4 is occupied by a girl. She is good looking with an innocent look. She was wearing Salwar Kameez with spectacles. She knew that I looked her and she looked me. I turned my head. 5 is a girl who looked homely and little fat but good. 6 is another girl. She was hearing/listening music /radio. I was wondering how 3 is empty and there comes the most beautiful girl ,she was sitting in upper berth. She was wearing yellow color chudithar tops with black dots and a jean. She was reading some novel. I saw her and she too saw me. As usual I turned my head .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t keep my legs properly because as ours is near toilet , people crossed me often. So I sat in 3 and I am now facing the girl with novel. But she was in upper berth! I looked her frequently. I got a call from home and I answered. I had two luggages with me. One I kept down in my side lower and another I couldn’t keep as there was no space. I took the luggage and asked the one with spectacle whether I can keep my luggage down. She was staring me without saying anything as if I asked her something wrong and at last she nodded her head. I thought what the *&amp;amp;%$ she was thinking about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After thirty minutes, the couple seems to get ready for sleep. So they were arranging and everything was set. Hence, all the berth was set. And the girl who sat beside me went to the side upper. So everyone was about to sleep. So I went back to my side lower and pulled out my blanket and pillow which I used to take whenever I travel in train. Wow, now I could see the girl with novel more clearly from my berth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am sure none was sleeping except the couple. Because the light was not switched off. Sometime later the light was put off . Alas! I thought how the beautiful girl would read the novel then. I saw her and smiled. She too reciprocated. What she did was something weird. As ours was near toilet and the light was very bright near ours. She lay down and aligned according to the light and I could see her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime later I saw a head peeped beside me near toilet. I thought it was just my thinking. But soon again the head peeped and when I turned back someone hided himself and again this happened, this time I saw him and I asked what he wanted. He told that he want to keep his luggage under my berth. I said ok. The luggage he was talking about was a neat fast track polythene bag with something inside which was almost weightless. I was wondering why can’t he keep that with him. I got the point he was trying to steal my luggage thinking that I have slept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up and I took out my luggage. The girl with the novel looked at me and was trying to say something. I took out my tee shirt and went near toilet and exchanged my shirt. Then ,I kept my luggage inside the inner right lower berth where I previously kept my other luggage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still this guy was not going. I acted as if I was sleeping. He came behind I opened my eyes immediately. He cleverly replied that he was standing for a long time and he want some space to sit. I allowed. Because I am not going to sleep either! I was waiting for TTR and at last TTR came after fifteen minutes. I asked him to confirm his seat. He told that I have asked him several times. I went to TTR and complained about him. TTR told that his ticket was not reserved and he should be in unreserved compartment. He was sent off from there and was later complained to police who was patrolling our compartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all this mess I came back to my berth and I saw her novel was lying down near my berth. I thought she was fast asleep. I thought of not disturbing her and kept her novel near her and a voice came from inside her blanket “Thanks”. I said “its ok. Good night”. She replied “Good night”. What a loser I am, I ended my conversation. Yet to learn the art of flirting, as I am not interested in serious relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept after an hour. I woke up at 6:30 next day exactly five minutes before the train reached Coimbatore. The girl with the novel was the one who woke me indirectly when her blanket went past me in the wind while she tried to fold it. I went for face wash and by the time I came back the station was reached. I was the first to get out of the train from my side. I didn’t dare to look behind. I went out and hired an auto and the auto headed to the bus stand. On the way, I saw her walking with two luggages. I thought of waving her a good bye. But I didn’t and there ends my journey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3252395704540090364-2507185311506437076?l=bshanoof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/feeds/2507185311506437076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3252395704540090364&amp;postID=2507185311506437076' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/2507185311506437076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/2507185311506437076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/2008/04/exciting-train-journey.html' title='An exciting train journey'/><author><name>Shanoof Basheer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04258617749216600803</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3252395704540090364.post-5328973640540912121</id><published>2008-03-07T01:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T01:37:30.339-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How is sensex calculated?</title><content type='html'>I used to wonder in my childhood days about what sensex means. I didnt get a clue about how they determine the index. Then my friend showed me an &lt;a href="http://www.rediff.com/money/2008/feb/21bspec.htm"&gt;excellent post &lt;/a&gt;about how it is calculated. I further went and applied for Reliance Money for share trading. Let me see whether i will be hit by a bull or a bear!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3252395704540090364-5328973640540912121?l=bshanoof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/feeds/5328973640540912121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3252395704540090364&amp;postID=5328973640540912121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/5328973640540912121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/5328973640540912121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-used-to-wonder-in-my-childhood-days.html' title='How is sensex calculated?'/><author><name>Shanoof Basheer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04258617749216600803</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3252395704540090364.post-8010560330888330058</id><published>2008-03-06T02:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T05:09:12.638-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF?</title><content type='html'>I had a blog during my collge days. But the habit just went off when the site was blocked. I always like to have a new blog created but the laziness creeps in. But not this time. So this is my first blog !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3252395704540090364-8010560330888330058?l=bshanoof.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/feeds/8010560330888330058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3252395704540090364&amp;postID=8010560330888330058' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/8010560330888330058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3252395704540090364/posts/default/8010560330888330058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bshanoof.blogspot.com/2008/03/wtf.html' title='WTF?'/><author><name>Shanoof Basheer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04258617749216600803</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
