tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59601340804780743702024-02-21T10:45:59.125+08:00.sarcasm.sin.strayings.sangkeertenan.sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.comBlogger133125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-2788865688284225232013-08-17T13:29:00.001+08:002013-08-17T13:29:26.848+08:00I see GOD in you. <p dir=ltr>When all things failed. When I was crumpled. When I had worn out. When pain was the only numbness. I saw GOD in you. What more can I say?</p>
sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-62742608197290803442012-10-22T02:13:00.003+08:002012-10-22T02:13:53.681+08:00cry of distress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: red;"><i>THIS POST IS AN EXPRESSION OF OUTRAGE FOR THE OPPRESSION THAT THESE INDIVIDUALS HAVE TO FACE FOR A PROPER EDUCATION. FOR THE FULL STORY PLEASE VISIT </i></span><a href="http://ragedindian.com/2012/10/21/sangeetha/" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank"> RAGEDINDIAN.COM/SANGEETHA</a></div>
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Coming from a lower middle class family, i braved the hardship of life at a very young stage. No doubt i have very good parents who , as much as to their capacity, shielded me and my siblings from the adversity, we understood the meaning of hard work and worth of money earlier in our childhood.</div>
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Education was the top priority. Everything else is secondary. I was fortunate enough to have both my parents who have some sort of sound education, hence the realization that education is the only key out of poverty was profound in out childhood. So they did in all their capability to give us a proper and holistic education. </div>
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Me and my siblings knew this was the only way out, and I'm proud to say that all of us turned out well.</div>
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Very, very, very, well.</div>
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So it disheartened me each time i see a kid struggling to get, even basic education. Especially if it is kid who wants to study yet denied the opportunity. I have and still work wit many NGO who aims at changing this. I do what ever I can within my capacity to put a smile to their face and for me that is a blessing from them. THE JOY. </div>
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Enough said.</div>
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The link above will bring you to gruesome plight of kids who have to put on a demonstration to get the necessities which they are entitled for, to be able to learn an develop themselves like any other child born in this country. It is not only sad, but pure anger and and disappointment surge to know that nothing so far has been done to amend this issue, on what i believe should be a fully government aided school, if I'm not mistaken. Are the authorities not aware or is their cry of distress falling on to deaf ears? What good can they reap by ignoring these kids? AND WHERE WERE THE TEACHERS??</div>
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Yet another Janji <strike>yet to be</strike> Ditepati. </div>
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sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-87948587636725507432012-10-19T13:24:00.000+08:002012-10-22T02:24:23.773+08:00the edge<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
what would you do when your world comes crushing down when you put your heart and soul in something you believed in? what would you do, when it changes you in to a person you thought was shady and despise of? what would you do if you relieve in using others to get back at the pain and hurt you went through? what would you do if your thirst for self pity and sadistic satisfaction is insatiable? what would you do if you lost the sense of guilt and become a master of manipulation? what would you do if you feign innocence? what would you do when it becomes a habit to falsify relationships? what would you do would you do when you lost your sense to madness? what would you do when your about to fall of the edge?<br />
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lots of questions, yet to be answered.<br />
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you scream, you kick, once you decide to turn in to the dark corners of your mind, there is no way out. or so you think, do you?</div>
sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-12552207189206871402012-08-04T15:55:00.001+08:002012-08-04T15:55:21.229+08:00A new chapters begins.<div><p>I'm dancing!!!!! <br>
>shouts a liberated soul<</p>
</div>sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com1Kampung Muhibbah Ampang, Kampung Muhibbah Ampang3.1448736 101.788704tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-29028207664286164972012-06-01T22:05:00.000+08:002012-06-01T22:05:51.178+08:00BHARATHANATYAM<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The wait was too long. the pain was too overbearing. the yearning was too much. I waited they will give me their approval, their blessing, only to be met with scalding words, and of course the usual yelling and cursing.<br />
Recently, when my brother danced in his university, she was so proud telling to everyone and showing of the pictures. Worst she made me open up the page in the computer to show the pictures. God knows how i felt that time.<br />
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I'M DONE WITH ALL THAT.<br />
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I decided to dance bharathanatyam without my parents blessings or approval. Because i realized one thing. its not the dance they detest, its just me learning it, and that would not change forever.<br />
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What has been a passion since 6, is now about become a reality.<br />
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I've told them, i'm doing it. She started yelling and told him. HE got and started to yell. I turned and looked, he just stopped halfway. I kept looking, he became dumbfounded. he went away and sat, and looked at me like he seen a ghost. She came and looked cause he stopped yelling, and i looked at her. she just stood to the ground, frozen to the spot. She walked off with sweat on her forehead.<br />
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I looked back at the screen of my laptop, where my webcam was on. I had the raasa raudra on my face. Guess they never saw that coming.<br />
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<br /></div>sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-39464016163718917822012-01-02T18:09:00.001+08:002012-01-02T18:09:58.709+08:00Roaring into Dragon Year<p> </p> <p>Or so to speak.</p> <p>This is the first year I had the most quality time on a new year eve that I could ever asked for. I came back to an empty house tired around 11 ish after work only to find there is no food. and worst, none of my house dwellers answered my call.</p> <p>After shower and two packets of curried instant noodles (bless those who created these little wraps of joy), I slumped into my couch, feeling a bit lethargic but nevertheless the urge to go out and party the night away, and suddenly like an epiphany, the quietness and stillness of the night swept away. At that moment dawned upon me that I was about to begin my journey into a whole new year alone. the itch to kick start the idiot box was surging but I calmed it down by listening to some good jazz and eventually things that I was blessed to experience last year, buzzed from memory. the people I met, the bonds I made, the fun I had, the pain I got all surged into my sight, each one vivid and crystal clear.</p> <p>The question of did I deserve those things and will it continue creped up and till one my good friend called me, <a href="http://hansondaren.blogspot.com/">Hdaran</a> ‘s little chat was enough to pump the dwindling spirit. I geared up for the finale, as the clock kept ticking, in my own little way. chocolate, some berries and nuts, frozen yogurt and steered my self into he new year with gastronomic orgasms of the sinful delight. (ok I'm a dark chocolate fan!)</p> <p>Called my sir boi, and couldn't get through. then it stroked me , he will be church praying. A smile crept about me, and I waited gingerly for his call, while calling the others whom i keep close to my little heart. Then I got the call i was waiting for and I was floating in sweet heavens. Bless him.</p> <p>And then it rained. as with any other significant moment in my life, it rained for a good 20 minutes till I was soaked and tired form yelping and singing in the rain, playing about happily. </p> <p>And with that I welcomed 2012 into my arms and embraced it. </p> <p>(=</p> <p>Happy New Year People.</p> sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-390435160286648302011-10-22T11:45:00.001+08:002011-10-22T11:45:41.126+08:00Sunday dreams<p> </p> <p>Alex</p> <p>the sound of the loud alarm ringing from one of the room permeates the whole shekar mansion with a notion that the day is about to begin and and get frantic. its Sunday, and that means the whole clan gets up to go to church and and later brunch together as a family. opening an eyelid and muttering foul under his breath, Alex stirs in his four corner post bed and blinks blankly at the ceiling. he scours around drinking in his surroundings. alexander asirvarthan shekar. that’s him. his family name itself is enough to get him comfortably around. he jet sets stylishly with his cousins, laughs while tinkling champagne flutes at parties around town, and changes shades when he spots just another paparazzi trying to get a shot at fame by having a shot of him.</p> <p>only he knows how much he hates that.</p> <p>getting up from the bed and dragging his feet to the washroom, he takes a long good look at him self before cleaning up. later after good hot shower, shaved and standing in just boxers in his wardrobe, he runs through his shirt rack for that shirt he bought 2 weeks ago. he hasn’t had the chance to wear it. call him retro but he loves things with quaint details. his room stands testament  for it. with a eclectic but elegant color palette, the shades of hot flushing pink, mysterious black and energetic sea blue paints an enigmatic picture all over his room. his artsy side can only be proudly displayed without snickering and silent laughing at his room, his abode, his retirement, his sanctuary. getting hold of the shirt form the rack , he takes out a matching plain double pleated slacks to go with the shirt, and a dirty gold tie.</p> <p>dressed and set, he comes down to be greeted by his elder sister who is already munching away on sandwiches prepared by aunty radha. aunty radha is the cook cum nanny who came to the house appointed as his playmate/caretaker. as he grew up, she was later delegated to the kitchen as the second cook. when  the previous one has expired, she remains the sole woman who cooks in this house. with permanent crinkles around the eyes from her ever ready smile, dimples and wiry grey hair, she is the one where Alex is truly comfortable with when he comes home.</p> <p>“ayya, have a seat, your coffee will be ready in a jiff”. ayya, the very word rings millions of bells in his heart. the word of comfort. the word of care. the word of knowing some is there. he gives her a peck in the cheek “ thanks nana”  and sits down. the way he treats aunty radha never went down well within this household. this apparent as the look on his sisters face is enough to curdle the milk. before she began to say something nasty, her phone rang “ oooo Patrick is calling…….” she rhymes up and snakes away. whose Patrick, Alex wonders. must be yet another guy she is flirting with. sigh, and he gave a distant look at his sister playing with her hair and giggling over the phone, with the occasional glance at him.</p> <p> </p> <p>drafted the first 4 paragraphs. watcha think? </p> sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-57757404974147164982011-06-28T20:25:00.000+08:002011-08-07T23:31:45.426+08:00coincidence of consequences. auscultation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">as the day approach to a near halt, ceasing activities to a dragging pace, i sit in my porch snugged with a mug of warm coffee enjoying the late evening breeze and enjoying the chirping of the birds on the bird, the scattering of the squirrels, and the calling of the mother hen to her chicks and the occasional cameo of the fruit bat. the sounds of nature, is at the full blast when the the day hits dusk, bursting a plethora of colours in the sky dotted with the swallows zooming through.<br />
this perfect moment of innocence inspired me so much that i felt stimulated emotionally and a surge of uplifting creative energy numbed my veins. immediately i knew what i needed. i need to read. a good original piece of work. something heartfelt. <div>i put down my mug, went in and brought my laptop out and after settling in, i directed my browser to my mates blogs and some writers sites and and 2 hours later felt contented, and satiated.<br />
as i put my laptop aside with some classical carnatic music on, i realized that dusk is just passing and the activities i noted earlier is nowhere to be found. no hurried feet disappearing up the tree leaving a trace of bushy tail, no stern call of the feathered brood's matriarch, not even the blind bats faithful visit. life just passed on.<br />
in my excitement, i failed to see what was happening in front of my eyes. to contain my self and take in the wonders that intrigued me. the promise of something more enriching made me left the things i have in hand and jump inot the next wave of emotion and be temporarily highlighted, in the end left to be dry and wanting more.<br />
this is not something new to many of us. more often this happens in a relationship with someone close and dear, be it romantic, casual, blood tie or platonic. we fail to acknowledge, we fail to ascertain, we fail to appreciate.</div><div>the nuances of comforting presence is undoubtedly taken for granted by almost every one we know, as the most often complimented complaint would be one has changed, and in the eye of the preacher, the negativity of it almost could be smelled. and the pairing defence of the supposedly changed person hasn't in fact grown a hair.and thus this contradiction would dwell a jarring gap that ultimately would take away the level of closeness between them.<br />
this not only applies to relationships but almost any aspect of being for a self. one attitude, ones passions, ones aspirations, anything.<br />
all because we simply don't listen. take the time to listen to ourselves, correctly. listen to our inner voice, our surroundings. and when things get heated up, slow down and listen again, and think. and then u may catch the beauty of the passing colours in the parade of the evening. the dusk and enjoy the fruits of ur patience int he most astounding starry night sky, with the bright moon shining alluringly above. listen. simple as that.</div><div><br />
</div></div>sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-83145746785461378562011-05-21T23:55:00.001+08:002011-05-21T23:55:36.004+08:00an unforgettable turn<p align="justify">in our day to day endeavor, we go through many incidents that make us sit back and realize what the purpose of we reacting to it in such a manner that it affects us the way it does. some of these incidents carry forward to become scars that testify our character and some become our accolades the glorifies our pride. character and pride, things which have become synonymous with the males and the equal opposites of our species. what a guy does is acceptable just because of there is something hanging down south where else if a girl does it, its despicable. the gender discrimination is at its worst when the subject matter in question is a sensibly illogical behavior to anyone with a cent worth of common sense hidden anywhere in them. instead it will be blown up to alarming proportions and adjudicated much to the annoying optimisms of the elders that this will not be the last time this mater will occur.   </p> <p align="justify">I digress. I will only stand and watch this time. guess I learned not to tell them that they are wrong. after all some people just don’t learn, and besides who am I to say when I can even see where my own path Is heading? just finished with my degree, and am nut ecstatic about it as I thought I would. the presentation was brutal. enough said, I am not going to think about it again ever. those who don’t know how to respect the hard work and passion that went into making a piece of work, does not deserve to know about it either, call it ego, pride or any other name one may label it with, but I would not compromise my principles for someone who don’t have one. I walked out, with my integrity and dignity intact, tall and undeterred that I have done my part. its high time HE/SHE did HIS/HERS.</p> <p align="justify">a new chapter has begun, a dragging chapter has ended. I took a turn on the crossroad. wish I know now it self, whether that’s a right turn or a left one. </p> sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-68961781586891391842011-05-04T02:37:00.000+08:002011-05-04T02:37:43.419+08:00i have an extra s<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">arts has been a solace to me lately, with me indulging into proper singing aided with lessons from the internet. it has proven to be much joy as it comes with appreciation and acknowledgement from unexpected places. when i worked as a marketing executive post stpm, i have been told countless times, my voice is very sweet by those who really meant it, and those with other intentions. clients, have to be polite to them, so generally i would gush out a fake excitement and launch into thanking them profusely till the deal is signed. most of the time it worked, and i didn't see it being ethically wrong and i went along with it. until one faithful day, i had to speak to a local dude, who launched midway into other things during our telephony discussion. i was horrified , appalled, disgusted, shamed, scared and what not, as i cant end the call abruptly nor i can ask him why his voice is changing and what are the other extra noises he is making is f are. worst, the conversation is recorded to be reviewed later, by the quality assurance department. nevertheless, that was the last time i told to my self, no more using sweet voice.<br />
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as i resigned to continue my studies, i became back the reserved quiet person i am, resorting to only the occasional shower singing, or the hymns during gatherings where i would always be called upon to sing. i would proudly beam and do my best mesmerize them, always getting compliments on my singing and urgings to take singing lessons as soon as possible. singing eventually become my companion when i needed to let out steam, calm my self or cry away. yes, tears would be rolling out and i would be belting out. being alone most of the times at home helps, as i don't have to worry about being a possible source of noise pollution.<br />
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most of the times, i carried a sad tune, until someone came into my life and brighten it up. the world seem so perfect with that person in and i finally understood the meaning to live for others. the person was my light to the my darkness, the breeze to my suffocation, the love to my soul. the strength i derived from the person enable me to move on with life, to live life and to see life. the person was gift from god, my angel. my tune changed, i sang happy melodies, explore different singing styles, incorporating from choir days with my passion for carnatic. the person became my muse, my music,.<br />
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but i just had to screw things up.<br />
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now, all i have are memories of the person, and missing the person is like drinking water to satisfy an insatiable thirst. my tune is back to being a sad yearning one. tears have dried up. but the love, has only swelled more as each day passes by. i wish the person understands me, that what ever i did, it was not to meant to hurt , but it was the opposite. till when the tune is gonna be sad? till when will i be able to final earn the persons pardon? time will tell, and till then i shall wait..<br />
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meeting you was by chance, but falling for you, thats fate... missing you more the before..<br />
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enjoy. i know i am.<br />
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</div>sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-5339877474487636552011-04-12T11:45:00.001+08:002011-04-12T11:45:11.026+08:00My birthday wish.<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqgtHJWVRIhDfejDaYFvdnlwyB8Rt9ZIBb0mZ4nU_uJPw4cslPOan0qx71DeM8DpskgzIg943e7lCNncj5Ejg21PzU8qHbCTJWef3C-xy0ICroCWqGgsfSbfx3pE-M0g_VAd8jHKyFalU/s1600/image-upload-3-709725.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqgtHJWVRIhDfejDaYFvdnlwyB8Rt9ZIBb0mZ4nU_uJPw4cslPOan0qx71DeM8DpskgzIg943e7lCNncj5Ejg21PzU8qHbCTJWef3C-xy0ICroCWqGgsfSbfx3pE-M0g_VAd8jHKyFalU/s320/image-upload-3-709725.jpg"/></a><br/><span>It's not expensive. It's not elaborate. It's not shiny nor it's high technology. But this is the gift that touched my heart. It's a simple card, but with love, with care, with longing.. Thank you sir boi.. Love you more than life... My birthday wish? May our bond be eternal.. </span></div>sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-30133545753737115692011-03-09T01:15:00.000+08:002011-03-09T01:15:47.774+08:00resonant of a soul : in E major<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i>curiosity kills the cat. </i><div><i>uncertainty kills the goal</i></div><div><i>ignorance kills the intellect</i></div><div><i>silence kills the soul.</i></div><div><i><br />
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</i></div><div>its been more then 2 weeks since you kept away from me. i did something terrible and i don't even know what i did. wish you would tell me. hmmm, if this is the price i need to pay for hurting you, i will. but know one thing, you always will be my soul mate. my guide. my philosopher. my eternal bond. and nothing would keep me away from you.</div><div>on a different note, i have started my final year project cum thesis, albeit in a struggling mode. i was sick for quite some time, drained my self out.. sigh, feeling much better now, have to quicken the momentum to keep up the pace. suppose to meet my supervisor last week, but could not make it. will try to meet him this week.</div><div><br />
</div><div>right now, the only thing that is keeping me occupied, is my thesis work and volunteering. the ngo i'm involved with is kind enough to send me for various trainings for me to gain knowledge and exposure in order to serve accordingly and efficiently. i have a camp this coming weekend at my former school where i'll be a facilitator. </div><div>*mymindissohaywiredrightnow*</div><div><br />
</div><div>the estranged heart is longing for the familiar voice that healed the wounds and cradled the worries. </div><div><br />
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</i></div></div>sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-35818499741854315142011-03-05T03:54:00.000+08:002011-03-05T03:54:56.610+08:00from me to you<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">i'm bruised. battered.<br />
but i guess you feel the same.<br />
i drained my self thinking what i did.<br />
wish u would tell me, as i don't know.<br />
i'm that dumb.<br />
sorry. thats what i can offer.<br />
but if you want anything else, name it.<br />
just don't ignore or hate me.<br />
love you more then life.<br />
before, now and always<br />
miss you sir.<br />
miss you a lot.<br />
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T_T</div>sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-71395999547299161742011-02-08T00:26:00.000+08:002019-02-19T00:44:49.356+08:00a trial<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br>
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i always wanted to write. a story. a fantasy. a dream. it has always been. but lately been feeling a little courageous, and so here is a little excerpt from one of d many imaginations i cook up in my mind.<br>
presenting, i am dancing. the two different struggles faced by two different persona's, on one common ground, dance.<br>
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" he looks down at his feet. wearing them has always been his dream. he peeks through the curtains, as a wave of panic rushes, cruises through his body. he looks at his painted fingers, and increases the volume of his mp3 player, as valli kanavan pirai screams in his subconscious mind. he drifts back to the day he saw his first love on the screen at home. the movement, the beat, the expression captivated his innocence so much, he dropped down the lego toy and went to his mother and father and said, mum, i wanna dance. dad looked down at his son, horrifed, that he wanted to dance and mum in bewilderment, on what he was talking. suddenly he was jerked back to reality as his hand were pulled, "you are next, get prepared" he said " huns, been doin that all my life" and smiled. this is it, he thought. im ready he took off the player, , hands at his side, and strode out, at que music. in his mind and heart shouting estatically, i am dancing."<br>
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"she sighs as another jump played its impact on her sore feet.'concentrate gal! you have to be in top shape!!' her mum's less then encouraging banter, be-seated, with her jathi stick poised to strike again. the aunt on the veenai gave her a sharp but sympathetic look. ' maybe she needs a break, she has been dancing non stop for quite some time you know" she said giving a slight hope. ' nonsense, she is not tired, she is just not concentrating. if you are tired , you can take rest...' the aunt gave another look and her eyes spoke her emotions. sympathy flowed through it. 'its ok aunt, im not tired.... i can dance, no worries.. take a break if you are felling tired..' the aunt threw a faint smile, and nods.. the shakes her head. she smiles as she adjusts her sash into place, and gets into aramandi again. she nods. her mum begins, ' from the start sadhana!, no cutting in between when you stop... ' and she begins.. asai mugham maranthu poche.. ' she bends, slightly and twist her hips getting into position and begin her formation of mudras deftly. if only her mums voice was not loud, she would her heard her mind and heart groaning, i am dancing.."<br>
<br>
watcha think?</span></div>sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-22887841141957439092011-01-16T13:04:00.001+08:002011-01-16T13:04:38.499+08:00attitude paradigm, in point blank.<p>*omigosh! having a major crush on a lecturer!!!!! sigh… moving on*</p> <p>people surrounding us have their own set of behavioral traits that makes or breaks their success on their social calendar. speaking of which, there is a huge difference on what is their social calendar like. some will have  trashy local reality series grand finale as the event to go, while others may look forward to the annual malaysian tatler’s debutante ball.  as crude as it may sound, status quo is not a new phenomenon, rising from schools to work places. they have it decided by them for them, so not one is to be blamed here (not that is a crime to have friends of different background!). and then we have the wannabe’s. </p> <p>a major pain in the neck, these group of yuppies have always managed to irk the hair of almost every body who have came across them in their daily life. these people are in serious need of character building, cause they simply don’t have one! its like they  are still stuck in time. quoting a dear friend, (thanks sammy!) even the rugrats have grown up( the series is called all grown up now), so can you! some may argue imitation is the best form of flattery, but it may not be the case with some of them as they only managed to make them look like needy of some desperate attention. in the end, they will end up like lindsay lohan, who claimed she forgot her actual hair color due to over dyeing it so many times with all the colors in the spectrum. ok maybe not all the color in the spectrum. but still the point here is, originality is always the best presentation to truly bring the best in oneself. </p> <p>adjusting ones principles and character and adapting one’s character and principles are two different things. some may keep on adjusting and adjusting till they get lost in the transition and in the end, try their level best to become well just about every body they come in contact with. adaptation how ever is the same interpretation in a different perspective. the essence still carries the same weight, amid in a reformed context. you still project originality and at the same time you don’t annoy someone so much till the dedicate an entry in their blog, ranting try make their annoyance sound civilized and some sense *snorts!*</p> <p>good day.</p> sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-3743011603456866072010-11-15T23:06:00.001+08:002010-11-15T23:06:20.245+08:00shades of purple<p><em></em></p> <p><em>the best story in your life is your own. </em></p> <p><em>the only story you truly live and would die for.</em></p> <p> </p> <p>the random blurt of an innocent child, the genuine smile of a fellow train passenger, the nod of thanks of the old lady at the queue, the sad puppy face of your dog in the morning asking for breakfast, the annoyance of your kid brother(no matter how old he gets, he is still a kid to you), the stay out of my room stance of your elder sister, the toothy smile of the aged granny across the street, the heartfelt care for a new acquaintance. something's just happen for reasons you don’t know, or question. and when they do, you don’t analyze it, you embrace it, taking it as it comes. sometimes you tend to question, but when you do, just remember, the little bit of joy you get when life gives you a brush with well goodness</p> <p>life is either seen with shades of white , black and gray for many. I refuse to compute in this manner, for me life is the shade of what I want it to be. and for me it is shades of purple. a mixture of red hot experiences and  cool blue dreams, mixing into the vibrantly serene purple. gather your memories and see what shades sits for you. bon voyage. or rather bonjour. </p> sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-87020103033683398442010-11-13T05:38:00.001+08:002010-11-13T05:38:36.598+08:00hiccups<p>shall I or shall I not?  im not going to loose this. not now, not in the future, not ever. a fighter I am, but a loosing battle is not an option I signed up for. shalli or shall I not?</p> sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-81361684455292155532010-11-13T04:51:00.001+08:002010-11-13T04:51:33.482+08:00dream<p>its been quite a while since I penned down my self into this blog. apologies for that. now moving on, a lot of happened since the last entry. a person I’m super attached with has left the world with blessings for me, and his depart was certainly more then I could handle. may you rest in peace mr nadarajah, you’ll be always remembered by me for encouraging me to be me and teaching me to embrace others shortcomings as an opportunity to learn. I would love to dedicate an entry for him but thinking of him only makes me so emotional, I’m not wiling to go through another emotional rollercoaster again.</p> <p>my belief in karma has been reinforced when a certain someone who caused me so much trouble by her attitude is paying for it now. as much as I felt sorry for her, a certain amount of me wished she had to face this adversity without making so much drama, and deliberately including me in it. she is not going to learn her lesson anytime soon, </p> <p>speaking of that, I guess I’m paying for my karma as well. a precious someone whom i hold close to my heart is acting differently towards me. in the past I have hurt him unintentionally, by which it’s a complicated story I wish not to elaborate further, nevertheless it s sufficient to know I didn’t do it with any intention to hurt him nor without a reason. I regret every moment I make him sad, and he knows I’m more sad then he if I know he is sad, especially if its cause of me. I’m feeling he is drifting far away from me, but then he comes back and for a while its like nothing happened, then I feel the gap again. may be its just me or no I have no idea. but one thing for sure, I’m feeling it and as much as I want to say to him, I scared it would only make things worst. I just wish things would how they were before but that is not going to happened anytime soon. the care, love, attention I felt before is not present as strongly as it was, and any thoughts this might end is just way to scary to think. I never had it in my life till he showed up, and thus I had more yearning then pain of its absence, but now since I tasted it, the yearning for it and the pain that it might cause if I ever loose it, is just suicidal to even imagine. I might not survive it. I wish I can open my heart like hanuman (an well known hindu deity and an crucial character in the indian epic ramayana) and show what I have inside for him but alas, im just me, perhaps in my dream, I can only hope.</p> sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-38644593619480116582010-10-26T15:46:00.001+08:002010-10-26T15:46:06.863+08:00the return of self esteem<p align="justify">alaya maniyaazh,, oosaiyum neeye..</p> <p align="justify">arutchuvai nadagam aada vanthaiye……..</p> <p align="justify">im back, with clear mind, clear heart and hopefully clear soul. have 2 overdue post, and plus another 2 on d making. will soon hang it up here. oh yeah baby, im back. </p> sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-40922707132863200262010-08-01T03:20:00.000+08:002010-08-01T03:20:47.549+08:00spectacles<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">many things in life comes in packages as every action is followed suit by a reaction, which essentially lead us to being who we are now. reverting from this norm is next to impossible, as escaping from the impact of our deeds is a feat achieved by very few. so how do we go about, adjusting and adapting to every turn and tribulations, as well as triumph and tokens that life gives us? </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">an age old saying has the answer. beauty is in eyes of the beholder. perspective has been playing the all important role in giving us the identity that people associate us with. simply said, it how you <i>see</i> things as opposed to the other version of it, <i>taking</i> things. as much as we think that the two words don't really make any distinguishable differences to the phrase, take another look back and discover the impact of a simple word play.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">viewing matter in an openly manner, withholding the urge to criticize and conforming to the thinking of the public is a trade that all of us should pick, sooner. not to say opinions of the mass doesn't matter, the inability to halt the saturation of it and analyse the situation consciously is what we seek to reform.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">life, is beautiful. many claim to see it, many acknowledge the phrase. but how many do live with it? taking things for granted, is for some part of our community is boon. the capability to change views of the the large is not impossible, and saying such one of the first step is to change ourselves, radically to gain strength to pursue it relentlessly when the aches hit us.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">doing our bits and parts to make the difference that seem to be on everyones lips but not heart is a take many refuse to do, and few give it a shot. and among those few, i was fortunate to breath some similar thoughts with them. they penned it down, and mine formed clouds above.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">those who did write it for others to view, will always be praised in a most default manner. few questioned it and immediately will be labelled with a society traitor sticker. and these are the people who sit and watch tamil serials at home, religiously. how i know? the maturity of their perspective and augmentation of their argument is beyond funny. its just plain stupid, not ignorant, but just stupid. those things two things matches well.period</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">so for those aforementioned beholders, its time to get spectacles and see the spectacle of life and its beauty. and while you are at it, get a life as well. cheerios</span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><script type="text/javascript">
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</script> <a href="http://www.addthis.com/bookmark.php" onclick="return addthis_sendto()" onmouseout="addthis_close()" onmouseover="return addthis_open(this, '', '[URL]', '[TITLE]')"><img alt="" border="0" height="16" src="http://s7.addthis.com/static/btn/lg-share-en.gif" style="border: 0;" width="125" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.mindsblog.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="MindsBlog !" border="0" src="http://www.mindsblog.com/promo/Mindslogo_2.png" /></a></div>sangkeertananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17790182368870936167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5960134080478074370.post-18906903257639337192010-07-18T00:47:00.000+08:002010-07-18T00:47:51.088+08:00clouds above<div>thoughts. comes to you when your mind is relaxed for a even a second. floods your conscience with something as simple as whats for dinner or an appointment in your to do list. and then the fleet away. the ones that lingers on, is the one that has the aftertaste, a distinctive feeling that makes you go deep into your memory and search for the past. a thought of some one, an incident or simply something that caught your attention.<br />
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as you ponder on, trailing one after another, a train of thoughts will transform you into a different plane altogether.... emotions will be stirred together in a cocktails of expressions, all boiled down to remorse or contentment.<br />
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you know what, remorse kills, but it never leads to death.<br />
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dying each time, thinking of you, waiting for you, telling all will be alright. its painful to know that the one you love is hurting you unknowingly, but it's more painful to know that the one that hurts you, loves you just as much as you love them, if nut more. then the waiting induces thoughts about what made them to do this and and then when it hits you, that it's you that all this is happening, you just swallow the choke of tears and wait.<br />
<br />
while above clouds of thoughts engulf your conscience for a another bumpy emotional road trip. rendering you to being subjected to scrutinizing by just about who ever you pour out. horror, just when you need it, in the form of a pinching reality check.<br />
<br />
the saying idle mind is a devils workshop is so utterly overrated. its more of a poignant cloud releasing machine. clouds, which i digress. now, thats a first. above.<br />
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<div><div><br />
i tried to shake off a part of me that took 5 long miserable and painful years to accept it, to become what the society sees me as, but alas today i had a reality check that, no*pausing and LOLing to the way a character speaks in tv drama*matter how much i tried, it is not going to materialize. i fated to be who i am, albeit knowing that before, i tried. believe me, i tried and the pain is real as well, surprisingly.<br />
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this day also reminded me of a support which i treasure very much, and knowing that WE is impossible, being YOU and ME, is more than i can ask for. and to my saga, these last 3 years have only sowed in me the fact, true feelings will never die, it just changes its directions and for your own good, i hope our paths never cross again. your changed one to many times, really hope this time, it will last till where you want it and how you want it. sadly enough, i am not going to wait and see it with you and to me, a new beginning awaits me. i hope this will beginning will lead to a good ending, no matter how it is. bon voyage to me and you.<br />
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anguishing over unknown reasons or situations is never going to be the new black, hence why we waste our energy trying to sort things in where they belong? because the after taste of awkwardness, is nut at all sweet. running into people whom we discarded, trashed, stepped over or what not, is always a chance to put it into their face. but not all of us have the inner bitch in us to do the roll call once again, despite the many claims.<br />
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some say time and karma will pay back exactly what everyone deserves,i say time and karma is in a illegitimate affair. so, get hold of their little black book, wear your prada's, and get down and dirty. for folks, you live once, you dont have to screw your way to hell, just enough to get to know, how does it feels not to be at the bottom all time long. this should be our dirty little secret. bon voyage.<br />
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