<?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-1886720198399427733</id><updated>2012-02-02T10:32:36.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quintessence</title><subtitle type='html'>Rediscovering the Fifth Element...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-2481182509211425351</id><published>2011-11-20T16:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T17:01:09.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FRoZeN FLaMeS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tp38Ymg7sEc/Tsmhr4d8clI/AAAAAAAAAGI/MJJ326_1ysY/s1600/flames.aspx" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tp38Ymg7sEc/Tsmhr4d8clI/AAAAAAAAAGI/MJJ326_1ysY/s320/flames.aspx" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Twilight..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;That mysterious part of the day,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;When the mind, like a sorcerer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Retrieves lost memories&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Of a pair of Dark eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Daunting, yet inviting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;As I lost myself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Into their twin depths;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Wild untamed passion,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Flames of passion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Transformed into words,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Into secret whispers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Ringing in my ears;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Of a touch:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;More subtle than a feather's kiss,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Yet more lasting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;In the pages of my thoughts;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Of the warm breath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Washing over me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Expelling the cold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;In seconds..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;..Those seconds,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;When I could hear my own heart beat,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Counting the minutes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;The days, the years..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;And now,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;The Sun has gone;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Leaving behind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;A moonless night;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Phantoms from the Past&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Are all that remain,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Of Broken Hearts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;And Frozen Flames&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-2481182509211425351?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/2481182509211425351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2011/11/frozen-flames.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2481182509211425351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2481182509211425351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2011/11/frozen-flames.html' title='FRoZeN FLaMeS'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tp38Ymg7sEc/Tsmhr4d8clI/AAAAAAAAAGI/MJJ326_1ysY/s72-c/flames.aspx' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-2625476757848419037</id><published>2011-09-13T05:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T06:03:02.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quintessence</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gxzk2T8Y7Zg/Tm9Sw6_MXXI/AAAAAAAAAGE/uZvkOJR3lkE/s1600/quint.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="194" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gxzk2T8Y7Zg/Tm9Sw6_MXXI/AAAAAAAAAGE/uZvkOJR3lkE/s400/quint.jpeg" width="259" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I hold a flower in my hand&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And I gaze into its infinite depths;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;All around me I hear whispers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Of nature and its mysteries.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Stories as old as eternity&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Of how the soil beneath my feet,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Was once a towering mountain&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Before its humble retreat.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I wonder at the royal rays of the Sun-&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sheets of the purest Gold;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sea waves that gently rise and fall&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;All in perfect rhythm.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The dew drops that never fail&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;To welcome me each dawn;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The curious rustling of the leaves&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;In the cool breeze of morn.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The roar of the thunder frightens me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I tremble, but for a while,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;For hither comes the rainbow&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;To paint the Sapphire sky.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The drops of rain that fell from the Heavens&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Join the seven seas,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Leaving behind a rich aroma&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Wafting from the wet soil.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Evening time, time for rest,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The little birds return to their nests,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Colorful wings flap in synchrony&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;As they prepare themselves for the night.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And now a curtain of black satin&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sprawls across the canopy above,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Slowly, like precious diamonds&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The stars peep out and shine.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Moon – the Queen of the Dark&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Casts her silver beams&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;That gracefully alight on the tree tops&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Giving them a soft shimmer.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I stand still and marvel&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;At nature’s age old wisdom,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;As she cleverly hides within her cloaks&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;All her deepest secrets.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Here I am, a harmony-&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Between mind, body and soul,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;An integral part of the Earth&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;But a speck in the all its vastness.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Earth completes the Universe&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;In a strange limitless space,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Performing a celestial dance&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Intricate, yet exquisite.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Each planet remembering its path&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Rotating and revolving,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;To the tune of a flawless melody&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;That no man can comprehend.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Who is the Great Conductor&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Of this divine orchestra?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Who is the creator&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And the law giver?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Quintessence-&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Some call it Science.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Others call it God.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-2625476757848419037?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/2625476757848419037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-hold-flower-in-my-handand-i-gaze-into.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2625476757848419037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2625476757848419037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-hold-flower-in-my-handand-i-gaze-into.html' title='Quintessence'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gxzk2T8Y7Zg/Tm9Sw6_MXXI/AAAAAAAAAGE/uZvkOJR3lkE/s72-c/quint.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-2697878966810159893</id><published>2011-08-11T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T09:05:18.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Story of the Caesarean Section</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dItW6Cz--iw/TkSkMZQFpfI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ObzliQRC5LU/s1600/hist.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="122" width="188" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dItW6Cz--iw/TkSkMZQFpfI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ObzliQRC5LU/s400/hist.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Childbirth and its complications have always intrigued man. The challenge is to save the life of both the mother and the child. Experiments and experience have taught us methods of achieving the same. Cesarean section is one of them.&lt;br /&gt;During ancient times, C-section was done on the dying mother as a “last resort” to keep the baby alive.&lt;br /&gt;But today, birth by C-section has started to increase globally. Almost one out of every five births in urban India is through a C-section.&lt;br /&gt;How did this change take place between then and now?&lt;br /&gt;To understand this we need to travel back time and trace the history of the Cesarean Section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Switzerland, 1500 &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story goes that there was a sow gelder named Jacob Nufer whose wife had a prolonged labor. To relieve her pain he supposedly cut open her uterus and pulled out the baby. The mother was alive and the child lived till the age of 77. The accuracy of this incident has often been questioned. But nevertheless the story spread and this novel method set the physicians thinking.&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F6cEGqL6qFg/TkSlmvCAR_I/AAAAAAAAAFg/wDfAwSIBYeM/s1600/vesalius_small.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="217" width="139" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F6cEGqL6qFg/TkSlmvCAR_I/AAAAAAAAAFg/wDfAwSIBYeM/s400/vesalius_small.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1543&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The period of Renaissance.&lt;br /&gt;Andreas Versalius published &lt;i&gt;De Corpus Humani Fabrica&lt;/i&gt;. The book explained the anatomy of the female genital system. Aspiring surgeons began to study the human cadaver in detail.&lt;br /&gt;But on the darker side, women were not allowed to attend schools of medicine till the late 19th century.&lt;br /&gt;Here comes the interesting story of Miranda Stuart Barry who disguised herself as a man and performed one of the most successful C-sections in the history of the British Empire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around the same time, travelers to Uganda were spectators to a procedure that increased the curiosity of the Western world.&lt;br /&gt;Each tribe in Uganda had a Healer. Whenever a woman went into prolonged labor, the Healer would semi-intoxicate her with banana wine and make a mid line incision on her abdomen to gain access to her uterus. He would then massage the uterus and take the baby out. The incision was then sutured using iron needles and the wound was dressed using a paste obtained from indigenous roots.&lt;br /&gt;This was one of those rare incidents in history when the civilized world seemed to be way behind times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1800-1875&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the Western World surgeons now had a thorough knowledge about the anatomical structures within the female body. But C-section still did not make any progress because of 2 reasons:&lt;br /&gt;-Pain. C-section was a very painful procedure and the people looked at the surgeons as butchers and barbarians.&lt;br /&gt;-Infection. Sterile practices were not known then and opening the peritoneal cavity naturally gave rise to many infectious diseases.&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L9FP9ZDrXJM/TkSmHlwDhuI/AAAAAAAAAFo/hbF47GW6rD8/s1600/c%2Bsec.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="252" width="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L9FP9ZDrXJM/TkSmHlwDhuI/AAAAAAAAAFo/hbF47GW6rD8/s400/c%2Bsec.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anesthetics were invented in &lt;b&gt;1846&lt;/b&gt; and this helped the surgeons operate with precision. It also helped them record the details of the surgery.&lt;br /&gt;Soon antiseptics came into picture and the situation seemed ideal for the much dreaded C-section to become widely accepted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this did not happen.&lt;br /&gt;And this time it was because the surgeons were afraid to suture the uterus after childbirth. They thought it would lead to infections; they also believed that the uterine muscles would contract spontaneously and stop the bleed. Thus, many young women died due to hemorrhage and shock.&lt;br /&gt;To overcome this, hysterectomy was suggested by a few doctors. But the idea was discarded for obvious reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1882&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Max Sauminger introduced the silver wire stitches and a few years later surgeons started experimenting with transverse incisions on the lower segment of the uterus. This greatly reduced the chances of scar rupture in subsequent pregnancies which was a common occurrence with the previously employed mid line incisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1928&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Discovery of Penicillin. Antibiotics were used to prevent many hospital-acquired infections.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1950 onwards..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heart monitors and Ultrasound scan were invented.  This helped to foresee the complications that might arise during the course of labor. Patients with pelvic abnormalities, placenta praevia, etc. were advised to get a C-section done.&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PldlhlRZuUA/TkSkojZJyDI/AAAAAAAAAFY/4zXTwd2DaRA/s1600/mom.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="194" width="259" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PldlhlRZuUA/TkSkojZJyDI/AAAAAAAAAFY/4zXTwd2DaRA/s400/mom.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, The Cesarean section is not a procedure that evolved overnight. It had its own history. Mistakes were committed. Lives were lost.&lt;br /&gt;But it has taken a giant leap from being a near-death or postmortem operation to a life saving one. And to the family of the mother and the operating surgeon, it makes all the difference in the world…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-2697878966810159893?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/2697878966810159893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2011/08/story-of-caesarean-section.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2697878966810159893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2697878966810159893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2011/08/story-of-caesarean-section.html' title='The Story of the Caesarean Section'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dItW6Cz--iw/TkSkMZQFpfI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ObzliQRC5LU/s72-c/hist.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Bangalore, Karnataka, India</georss:featurename><georss:point>12.9715987 77.59456269999998</georss:point><georss:box>12.7518902 77.34282119999999 13.191307199999999 77.84630419999998</georss:box></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-278813663297939006</id><published>2011-08-07T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-07T09:17:21.882-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vaccine no guarantee against Cervical Cancer!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lLuBcnx8I-o/Tj6yCKj-YeI/AAAAAAAAAEA/rUxzBwR40r0/s1600/c%2Bc.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 209px; height: 241px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lLuBcnx8I-o/Tj6yCKj-YeI/AAAAAAAAAEA/rUxzBwR40r0/s400/c%2Bc.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638139533779165666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The excitement surrounding the &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Human Papilloma Virus vaccine&lt;/span&gt; for cervical cancer is not surprising given that "10 women die of cervical cancer every hour in South East Asia... and shockingly, 8 out of the 10 are Indian women".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The All India Institute of Medical Sciences has declared HPV types 16 and 18 as the main culprits causing havoc in India. They account for almost 70% of the cervical cancer cases in India.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;So what exactly is a HPV vaccine?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The HPV vaccine is a quadrivalent prophylactic vaccine which offers protection against HPV types 6, 11, 16 and 18. It is prepared from a non-infective, DNA free, virus-like particle produced by recombinant technology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the Target Age group?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HPV vaccine is most effective when administered to women falling under the age group of 9 - 26 yrs. This is because a woman who has crossed 26 yrs of age might already be infected with the virus before she gets vaccinated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How efficient is the Vaccine?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The vaccine prevents HPV infection for a period of 5yrs.&lt;br /&gt;But the recipient of the vaccine should not develop a false sense of freedom from cervical cancer because the vaccine does not offer protection against all types of HPVs. In fact it fails to cover over 30% of oncogenic HPVs. &lt;br /&gt;Thus, regular screening for cancer should be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moreover, the following risk factors must be kept in mind:-&lt;br /&gt;- Multiple sex partners&lt;br /&gt;- Male partner with multiple sex partners&lt;br /&gt;- Intercourse at a young age&lt;br /&gt;- High parity&lt;br /&gt;- Immunosuppressive states (esp. AIDS)&lt;br /&gt;- Use of Oral Contraceptive Pills&lt;br /&gt;- Use of Nicotine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;What are the Side Effects of HPV vaccination?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In most cases there are transient side effects like:&lt;br /&gt;- Erythema and tenderness at the site of injection&lt;br /&gt;- Pruritis&lt;br /&gt;- Nausea&lt;br /&gt;- Headache&lt;br /&gt;- Fever&lt;br /&gt;- Dizziness&lt;br /&gt;A few cases of syncope have also been reported which is why it is wise to keep the recipient under supervision for a minimum of 15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are there any contraindications to the administration of this vaccine?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. The vaccine should not be given to patients who are&lt;br /&gt;- Pregnant&lt;br /&gt;- Suffering from acute illnesses&lt;br /&gt;- Allergic to yeast&lt;br /&gt;- Hypersensitive (to a previous dose of the vaccine)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The WHO rightly states that while the vaccine reduces the prevalence of the cancer, it does not completely eradicate it.&lt;br /&gt;Therefore, spreading awareness about cervical cancer would go a longer way in reducing its incidence than vaccination.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-278813663297939006?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/278813663297939006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2011/08/vaccine-no-guarantee-against-cervical.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/278813663297939006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/278813663297939006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2011/08/vaccine-no-guarantee-against-cervical.html' title='Vaccine no guarantee against Cervical Cancer!'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lLuBcnx8I-o/Tj6yCKj-YeI/AAAAAAAAAEA/rUxzBwR40r0/s72-c/c%2Bc.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-1039404834635838935</id><published>2010-11-13T07:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T08:13:23.702-08:00</updated><title type='text'>21st century DOC</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/TN65BIaxgvI/AAAAAAAAADs/OEdp1QaPqwQ/s1600/funny_doctor-13171.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/TN65BIaxgvI/AAAAAAAAADs/OEdp1QaPqwQ/s400/funny_doctor-13171.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539068020803076850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-1039404834635838935?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/1039404834635838935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2010/11/21st-century-doc.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/1039404834635838935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/1039404834635838935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2010/11/21st-century-doc.html' title='21st century DOC'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/TN65BIaxgvI/AAAAAAAAADs/OEdp1QaPqwQ/s72-c/funny_doctor-13171.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-2848137571172452784</id><published>2010-07-30T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T07:18:06.737-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SUNRISE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/TFLfD7tdJJI/AAAAAAAAAC8/3HIvKTjVe4c/s1600/sunrise.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/TFLfD7tdJJI/AAAAAAAAAC8/3HIvKTjVe4c/s400/sunrise.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499703353633744018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How gently the pall of darkness&lt;br /&gt;Slowly lifts,&lt;br /&gt;And the cry of the cuckoo&lt;br /&gt;Pierces the silence of the morning.&lt;br /&gt;The green leaves bathe&lt;br /&gt;In the crystal clear dew,&lt;br /&gt;And the trees stand silently&lt;br /&gt;Watching the slowly fading mist.&lt;br /&gt;Slowly the creatures stir-&lt;br /&gt;Calm and well rested,&lt;br /&gt;And venture out of their homes&lt;br /&gt;To welcome the new day.&lt;br /&gt;The lakes reflect the mountains&lt;br /&gt;Shimmering in the first rays of the Sun,&lt;br /&gt;That sweeps across the valleys&lt;br /&gt;And enters the narrowest alleyways.&lt;br /&gt;Soon the milkman begins his day,&lt;br /&gt;The laughter of children fills the air,&lt;br /&gt;And the whole world experiences&lt;br /&gt;The magic of a new morning.&lt;br /&gt;How gently the Creator smiles&lt;br /&gt;At His marvellous creation-&lt;br /&gt;That was once again basking&lt;br /&gt;In the glory of Sunrise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-2848137571172452784?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/2848137571172452784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2010/07/sunrise.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2848137571172452784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2848137571172452784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2010/07/sunrise.html' title='SUNRISE'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/TFLfD7tdJJI/AAAAAAAAAC8/3HIvKTjVe4c/s72-c/sunrise.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-7804247098014679876</id><published>2009-08-16T03:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T07:36:23.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Students and a Cell Phone - A Short Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/SofnwwgXz6I/AAAAAAAAACs/emhLOga3XWA/s1600-h/cell.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 116px; height: 116px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/SofnwwgXz6I/AAAAAAAAACs/emhLOga3XWA/s400/cell.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370515905503023010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That morning, I was running through the College &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;corridors&lt;/span&gt; at a breakneck speed, bumping into anyone and everyone because I was late for the class - and added to that, the first hour was allotted to the Mathematics lecturer Mrs.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt; Alzan&lt;/span&gt; (whom the students had generously honoured with the nickname 'The Terror')&lt;br /&gt;When I finally reached the classroom door - panting like a dog-tired donkey - all the heads (including that of Mrs.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt; Alzan&lt;/span&gt;) turned towards me.&lt;br /&gt;"You are late Mel," Mrs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Alzan's&lt;/span&gt; voice rang out loud and clear. "Come inside and don't be late again." I stepped inside, amazed at my luck, (for Mrs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Alzan&lt;/span&gt; held the unique reputation for granting her students a free tour to the Principal's office.) I had hardly taken a few steps, basking in my narrow escape, when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Shaan&lt;/span&gt; began to sing - or rather - my cell phone began to ring. A few days back, I had set the singer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Shaan's&lt;/span&gt; famous song '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Tanha&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Dil&lt;/span&gt;' as my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ring tone&lt;/span&gt; and I used to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;wait&lt;/span&gt; for a call to hear the song. And here was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Shaan&lt;/span&gt;, fulfilling my wish. I turned slowly to brave the expression on my lecturer's face. Her visage was contorted with rage and somehow (even in that situation) she managed to remind me of a hen that was trying extremely hard to lay an egg.&lt;br /&gt;"..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Chalna&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;akele&lt;/span&gt; hum &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;yahan&lt;/span&gt;.."  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Shaan&lt;/span&gt; was bellowing.&lt;br /&gt;My cell phone was confiscated that very day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Alzan&lt;/span&gt; was working out many problems on the blackboard so that we saw more of her back than her front. To my left, Nita was messaging on her cell phone and to my right, Ella was viewing the image gallery on her mobile. Both were busy with their cell phones, though they did (occasionally) bestow me with their looks of pity. As for me, I sat between them like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;sanyasini&lt;/span&gt; who had renounced all her worldly pleasures (in my case - my cell phone.)&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, Ella's cell phone gave a loud beep. Most of the students heard the beep though Mrs.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt; Alzan&lt;/span&gt; (bless her soul!) was much too immersed in her beloved &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;mathematical&lt;/span&gt; sums to notice anything. "My message alert tone is not in the silent mode," whispered Ella. "Then switch it off dumbo," snapped Nita. Poor Ella - she was visibly shaking - hoping that she would not receive any message until she had silenced her alert tone.&lt;br /&gt;"I have switched on the keypad tones by mistake!" cried Ella, seconds later.&lt;br /&gt;Just then, Mrs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Alzan&lt;/span&gt; turned towards us with the air of an accomplished warrior, since she had successfully solved a particularly difficult problem. Now all that dear Ella could do was to hope that her well-wisher would not pursue his attempt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;at&lt;/span&gt; sending her a message. Sensing her fear, my chivalrous Nita said, "Give me your cell phone; I shall take &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;care&lt;/span&gt; of the situation." &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Ella&lt;/span&gt; was more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;than&lt;/span&gt; ready to part with the half-foot long trouble maker.&lt;br /&gt;Nita walked up to Mrs.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt; Alzan&lt;/span&gt; with Ella's cell phone hidden in her pocket. "May I use the restroom Ma'am?" she asked with unusual politeness. Mrs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Alzan&lt;/span&gt; gave her grand consent and Nita marched out of the classroom.&lt;br /&gt;Her plan suddenly became evident to me. Nita would switch off Ella's cell &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;phone&lt;/span&gt; in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;restroom&lt;/span&gt;. I could not contain my smile and I flashed all my 32 teeth &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;at&lt;/span&gt; once in what you might call the 'Million Dollar Grin'. But unfortunately, Mrs.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt; Alzan&lt;/span&gt; caught sight of my Million Dollar Grin and the result was that she quietly slipped &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;out&lt;/span&gt; of the classroom to follow Nita.&lt;br /&gt;Both, Nita &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;Ella,&lt;/span&gt; had to hand over their cell phones that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five days later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Therefore students, cell phones are the main culprits," concluded Mrs.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt; Alzan&lt;/span&gt;. "Look at your classmates - Mel, Nita and Ella - I have confiscated their cell phones and now, they pay their sincere attention to my lectures even though they are seated in the last bench of the classroom. "&lt;br /&gt;And sure enough, my two friends and I nodded &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;innocently&lt;/span&gt; at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;whatever&lt;/span&gt; she said.&lt;br /&gt;However, what Mrs.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt; Alzan&lt;/span&gt; was unaware of, was the fact that our highly benevolent friend - Janet - who was seated right in front of us had switched on her mobile which was now playing a Hindi song from the Film '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;Dil&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;Chahta&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;Hai&lt;/span&gt;' at a comfortable volume so that only the last two benches could hear it.&lt;br /&gt;And the three of us were gently nodding to the rhythm of the song&lt;br /&gt;'...Hum &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;hain&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"&gt;naye&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43"&gt;andaaz&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44"&gt;kyun&lt;/span&gt; ho &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45"&gt;purana&lt;/span&gt;..!'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-7804247098014679876?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/7804247098014679876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/08/three-students-and-cell-phone-short.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/7804247098014679876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/7804247098014679876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/08/three-students-and-cell-phone-short.html' title='Three Students and a Cell Phone - A Short Story'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/SofnwwgXz6I/AAAAAAAAACs/emhLOga3XWA/s72-c/cell.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-5066571763226104566</id><published>2009-08-06T22:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T21:01:28.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rahul Gandhi: The Chocolate Boy of Indian Politics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/SnvGGQRu63I/AAAAAAAAAB0/eDISljyL_LU/s1600-h/rg10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 184px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/SnvGGQRu63I/AAAAAAAAAB0/eDISljyL_LU/s400/rg10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367101191692938098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So..Rahul Gandhi is the prime-ministerial candidate of the Congress Party?" asked Nimisha.&lt;br /&gt;Nimisha is a childhood friend of mine. She had just returned to India after spending 7 years of study in England and I took it upon myself to take her for a stroll along the roads of Bangalore. It was election time and she was apparently enthralled by the huge posters and colourful banners of the various political parties that adorned our streets.&lt;br /&gt;"I suppose Dr. Manmohan Singh is their candidate," I replied.&lt;br /&gt;"But I see more of Rahul's posters on the election pamphlets than Dr. Singh's!" exclaimed Nimisha.&lt;br /&gt;I chose to remain silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elections are finally over and the Congress has returned with a thumping majority. But the 'man of the match'  - Rahul Gandhi - has once again retreated into his shell!&lt;br /&gt;In fact, the zeal and enthusiasm that Rahul portrayed while campaigning for the Indian National Congress has motivated even the opposition party (the BJP) to encourage its youth wing - Bharatiya Janata Yuva Morcha.&lt;br /&gt;As for Rahul Gandhi, he remains as humble and simple as ever.&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly, this 38 year old 'Cambridge educated' MP from Amethi (Uttar Pradesh) has listed 'farming' as his only occupation, thereby identifying himself with the poor farmers who truly constitute the backbone of our nation.&lt;br /&gt;Recently, Sushma Swaraj- a senior BJP leader- has accused the media of succumbing to the "gore chitte, chikne chupde" (fair and chocolate-faced) Congress leaders, especially Rahul Gandhi.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps they have failed to notice the immense potential behind this 'chocolate face'.&lt;br /&gt;During our landmark elections this year, Rahul travelled across the country to campaign for his party. No Congressman could compete with Rahul's ability to make fiery and candid speeches in a nation that speaks over 60 languages.&lt;br /&gt;The NDA government had earlier come up with slogans like 'India Shining' and 'Hindutva' during their election campaigns. But Rahul has slammed these slogans and upheld his own party's aim to work for the 'Aam Aadmi' (the common man) in his speech at Maharashtra. In his own words: "If you go to a village and ask what 'India Shining' means, the villagers will be unable to understand what it means. This thinking is that of rich people. They fight for privatisation, they fight for the stock market; but do not reach your houses."&lt;br /&gt;He once again portrayed his skill at sending forth strong messages to the opposition party in the simplest words when he said , "They (the BJP leaders) did not go to the houses of the poor, the farmers, the Dalits and other weaker sections of society. They just went to the houses of the rich."&lt;br /&gt;Right from the day Rahul entered politics, he has had to face the strong criticism and the rude remarks made by the opposition party members.&lt;br /&gt;First, they pointed out the fact that his mother was an Italian, thereby making him unworthy to join Indian politics. Later, as his fan-base grew among the Indian Youth, they held his 'chocolate face' responsible. And recently, a BJP political analyst has asserted that Rahul Gandhi is a "proxy PM candidate" who "can say what he wants without being held accountable."&lt;br /&gt;These are a few baseless and frivolous remarks that crumble before Rahul's cool-headed nature.&lt;br /&gt;This young politician has successfully tackled complex issues that only the Ministers of the Cabinet address. From lodging in posh and luxurious hotels to spending nights in farmers' huts - this man has willingly tasted everything. He is one of the very few leaders whose dedication and deeds has enabled him to state with firm conviction : "We functioned as per our promise."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, Nimisha gave me a call after she had returned to London.&lt;br /&gt;"So Rahul Gandhi is not the Prime Minister of India?" was her first question.&lt;br /&gt;"No," I answered.&lt;br /&gt;"I guess he has become a member of the Council of Ministers.." she added hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;"No.."  I repeated. "He has turned down the offer."&lt;br /&gt;"Ah!" she exclaimed. "That's bad... I wish I knew the reason why..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, actually Nimisha, we all wish we knew the reason why...!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-5066571763226104566?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/5066571763226104566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/08/rahul-gandhi-chocolate-boy-of-indian.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/5066571763226104566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/5066571763226104566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/08/rahul-gandhi-chocolate-boy-of-indian.html' title='Rahul Gandhi: The Chocolate Boy of Indian Politics'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/SnvGGQRu63I/AAAAAAAAAB0/eDISljyL_LU/s72-c/rg10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-2827053148029927513</id><published>2009-07-30T02:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T05:22:57.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FRATERNAL TWINS : Your Bundle(s) of joy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/SnF0-pfmHZI/AAAAAAAAABs/lZX3rGafMvU/s1600-h/twins.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 107px; height: 129px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/SnF0-pfmHZI/AAAAAAAAABs/lZX3rGafMvU/s400/twins.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364197250814057874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If producing babies is no mean feat, then what about producing them two-at-a-time?&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, about 1 in every 90 births turn out to be twins and there is almost a 75% chance that the twins would be fraternal sets (or more commonly - non identical twins). Over the past 2 decades, the number of fraternal twins has increased dramatically and after much observation and experimentation, our scientists have outlined the major reasons behind this unexpected rise in number:-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Superfoetation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an interesting case where the mother releases an egg and becomes pregnant, but after a few days (sometimes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;up to&lt;/span&gt; 24 days) she would release another egg which would also get fertilized. Obviously, the sperms fertilizing these two eggs are different and can belong to separate men. These fertilized eggs now implant themselves in the uterus of the mother either on opposite sides, or close to each other. If the eggs are too close, then their amniotic membranes (protective membranes around the developing embryo) and their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;placantae&lt;/span&gt; may fuse, thereby fooling the doctors to declare them to be 'identical twins' when they are very much a fraternal set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Superfoetation&lt;/span&gt; can also occur in the case of a woman undergoing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Invitro&lt;/span&gt; Fertilization (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;IVF&lt;/span&gt;). Here, the egg from the donor is aspirated out of her body, fertilized and then artificially implanted &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;in the&lt;/span&gt; uterus of the mother; around the same time, the mother might release another egg (during her regular cycle) which if fertilized by natural means would give rise to fraternal twins.&lt;br /&gt;Though both the twin babies have different dates of conception, they are delivered on the same day. Therefore, one of the twins is actually slightly premature!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Superfecundation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This condition is purely genetic, where a woman &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;releases more&lt;/span&gt; than one egg during her regular cycles (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;superovulation&lt;/span&gt;/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;hyperovulation&lt;/span&gt;). Thus, when such a woman becomes pregnant, both her eggs would have been fertilized by different sperms resulting in fraternal twins.&lt;br /&gt;If you have mothered fraternal twin babies, a common question that many people would have asked you is : "Do twins run in your family?" This is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;because,&lt;/span&gt; the case of  Superfecundation bears testimony to the popular saying: "Twins are hereditary".&lt;br /&gt;But today, many aspiring mothers turn to fertility drugs which also cause them to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;superovulate&lt;/span&gt; and bear non-identical twins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fraternal twins are like normal siblings - neither do they look similar nor do they share the same genes. In fact, they show a 50% variation in their DNA (unlike an identical set). It has been proven that fraternal twins share an intimate relationship and can be closer to each other than identical twins! Perhaps the reason is that the former pair does not have to strive to discover their own identity and uniqueness. Each fraternal twin also has the advantage of having a constant companion of his own age with whom he could share his experiences and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;discuss&lt;/span&gt; his problems.&lt;br /&gt;President Bush's twin girls and (closer home) E.F. Minister &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Shashi&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Tharoor's&lt;/span&gt; twin sons are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;perfect&lt;/span&gt; examples of fraternal sets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These twins develop a strong friendship that is often unbreakable and long-lasting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;After all&lt;/span&gt;, they began their journey together... didn't they?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-2827053148029927513?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/2827053148029927513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/fraternal-twins-your-bundles-of-joy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2827053148029927513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2827053148029927513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/fraternal-twins-your-bundles-of-joy.html' title='FRATERNAL TWINS : Your Bundle(s) of joy'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/SnF0-pfmHZI/AAAAAAAAABs/lZX3rGafMvU/s72-c/twins.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-2935312873945896513</id><published>2009-07-28T22:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T23:05:24.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Racism and the Echoes of History</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Sm_mmB8ZuCI/AAAAAAAAABk/3yX0HAiT0jY/s1600-h/Er.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 130px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Sm_mmB8ZuCI/AAAAAAAAABk/3yX0HAiT0jY/s400/Er.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363759222252746786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was flipping through the pages of Adolf Hitler's famous book &lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mein&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kampf&lt;/span&gt;, when a particular chapter titled "Race and People" took me by interest. As I began to read the chapter, I couldn't help but admire Hitler's knowledge about Evolution as he described the way nature forbids the mating of two individuals from two different species. I was just beginning to wonder if the Dictator had secretly studied Zoology during the years that he had spent in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Prison, when&lt;/span&gt; another statement of his caught my attention: "If nature does not wish that stronger animals should mate with the weaker, she wishes even less that a superior race should intermingle with an inferior one." It became clear to me in an instant that Hitler was no fan of Charles Darwin, for all human beings, irrespective of their race, belong to the same species and can therefore intermingle and produce fertile &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;offsprings&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;He also claims in his book that the 'Aryan' race which has spread over Europe and America is the most superior race and that the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;culture&lt;/span&gt; adopted by the Asians show very little traits of "Asiatic inspiration" since it was borrowed from the Aryans. He goes on to write that our scientific &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;achievements&lt;/span&gt; are built on the foundations provided by Europe and America. He praises their "lighter tint of the skin" and asserts that "Every manifestation of human culture...art, science and technical skill...is almost exclusively the product of the Aryan creative power."&lt;br /&gt;Poor Hitler has limited his ignorance not just to Zoology, but to History as well!&lt;br /&gt;When the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Harappa&lt;/span&gt; and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Mohenjodaro&lt;/span&gt; civilizations grew vigorously in India in 2800 B.C. and the Chinese civilization flourished in Central Asia at around the same time, what was Europe? A continent in wilderness. And the inhabitants constituting Hitler's "Superior race" must have been mere food gatherers.&lt;br /&gt;In his enthusiasm to portray the superiority of the Aryans, Hitler forgets to question their origin. For had he done so, he would have have found out that the Aryans hailed from Asia and that "Little Europe sticking on to the Great Asian Continent" (as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Jawaharlal&lt;/span&gt; Nehru puts it) was civilized by the Aryans, the Arabs and the Mongols from Asia.&lt;br /&gt;Asia has produced great thinkers and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;philosophers like&lt;/span&gt; Jesus Christ, Buddha, Krishna and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Mohammed&lt;/span&gt; the Prophet. They &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;were&lt;/span&gt; the architects of religions that even the Europeans and the Americans follow today.&lt;br /&gt;Though I have already brought to your notice that the Aryans were originally Asians, yet (for the sake of analysis) let us continue to assume that they were a superior race. To study  about their confrontations with a 'so-called' inferior race, let us dig into the rich History of our own Motherland.&lt;br /&gt;When the Aryans came to India around 2000 B.C., they were welcomed by a civilized group of people called the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Dravidians&lt;/span&gt; who occupied South India. They even had their own languages: Telugu, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Tamil&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Malayalam&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Kanarese&lt;/span&gt; (modern day Kannada). The Aryans settled down in the Northern part of India and the two settlements existed peacefully.&lt;br /&gt;The political affairs in the Dravidian dominated South India amazed the Greek Historian- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Megasthenes&lt;/span&gt;. In his own &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;words&lt;/span&gt; : "...the popular assemblies of the south restrained the power of the Kings." On the other hand, in Europe, the Royal Class oppressed the peasants by means of cruel taxation.&lt;br /&gt;South India also boasted &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;of&lt;/span&gt; its ship-building &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;industries&lt;/span&gt;. Giant ships, manned by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Dravidians&lt;/span&gt;, carried pearls, ivory, gold - and for some strange reason- even monkeys to Greece and Rome. The state of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Kerala&lt;/span&gt; exported &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Teak wood&lt;/span&gt; from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Malabar&lt;/span&gt; Coast. Thus, it was no great surprise to discover Roman coins in South &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;India&lt;/span&gt;. But what did surprise many Historians was that South India had established her colonies even in Alexandria! She soon found a sea route to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Sri&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Lanka; and&lt;/span&gt; the Kings &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;of the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Pallava&lt;/span&gt; Dynasty that thrived here colonized islands like Java, Sumatra, Indonesia -and for a short span of time- even the Philippines. The Indian immigrants are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;said&lt;/span&gt; to have exploited the original &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;inhabitant&lt;/span&gt;s of these islands and ruled over them for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;many&lt;/span&gt; years. Thus, it was apparent that the 'South' overshadowed the 'North' of our country many times in Indian History.&lt;br /&gt;In what way then, was the Dravidian race inferior to Hitler's Aryans? And in what way did Early Europe match the grandeur and majesty of the Indian Kingdoms?&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, even today, Indians -and in general- Asians are believed to constitute an inferior race and they become victims of racial attacks all over the world.&lt;br /&gt;Why should we tolerate these outrageous acts when our ancestors have left behind a rich History that we all need to be proud of?&lt;br /&gt;After all, there was a time when we were lordly too.&lt;br /&gt;And History repeats itself...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-2935312873945896513?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/2935312873945896513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/racism-and-echoes-of-history.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2935312873945896513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2935312873945896513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/racism-and-echoes-of-history.html' title='Racism and the Echoes of History'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Sm_mmB8ZuCI/AAAAAAAAABk/3yX0HAiT0jY/s72-c/Er.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-8627573000270664586</id><published>2009-07-27T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T22:53:12.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lotus that never Bloomed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Sm2-Uj83cRI/AAAAAAAAABc/xPmO8qnaPs0/s1600-h/Kamala.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 83px; height: 128px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Sm2-Uj83cRI/AAAAAAAAABc/xPmO8qnaPs0/s400/Kamala.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363151991725322514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Have you heard about a relationship that could go terribly wrong?&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever seen a woman who has everything-fame, wealth and beauty- but fails to win her husband's love?&lt;br /&gt;No?&lt;br /&gt;Then you must read my story.&lt;br /&gt;I was born as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kamala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kaul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; in an orthodox Hindu family. My childhood days were spent at our family mansion in Old Delhi. From a very young age, I was conscious of my beauty. Daddy's friends used to often say that I would bloom into the most beautiful Lotus one day. I basked in the light of all this admiration. After all, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kamala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; means 'Lotus'.&lt;br /&gt;I had plenty of friends and the best childhood that one could hope for.&lt;br /&gt;But one particular day changed my life forever.&lt;br /&gt;A very famous and highly Westernized Indian man called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Motilal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Nehru (who was an emerging figure &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;in the&lt;/span&gt; Indian National Congress) asked for my hand in marriage to his son- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Jawaharlal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; who was studying in England then. My family gave him their consent immediately.&lt;br /&gt;I was eleven years old then and not many girls are aware of the terms 'matrimony' and 'in-laws' at such a young age. But once I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;understood&lt;/span&gt; their meanings, I found a new reason to live- waiting for my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Jawahar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Almost seven years passed thus.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, in the year 1916, my wedding-day arrived. My long wait was over, for my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Jawahar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; had returned from England. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Nehrus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; were extremely wealthy and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Motilalji&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; adorned me with huge chains of gold. My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Jawahar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; rode to our family mansion on a white horse. He was much more handsome than the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Jawahar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; of my dreams. We exchanged vows just after midnight. My sister-in-law described me as "one of the most beautiful women" she had ever seen. My joy knew no bounds.&lt;br /&gt;But soon, I realized that my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Jawahar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; did not share this happiness of mine. He maintained a gloomy expression all through the marriage proceedings. My first assumption was that he was shy. But later, I was proved wrong. When I heard the raw truth, my heart shattered into a million pieces.&lt;br /&gt;After our marriage, my husband left me under the care of my in-laws and set off on a dangerous expedition to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Zojila&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Pass where he boasted of a narrow escape from death itself. Later, he plunged into Indian Politics and had absolutely no time for me. He was always cold and distant and seldom spoke to me. I soon learnt (mainly from the maids at the Nehru household) that he had married me against his will, under the compulsion of his father. He had, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;in fact,&lt;/span&gt; told &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Motilalji&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; that he could never "fall in love with a photograph" and that the entire concept of an arranged marriage was "unromantic". He wanted his wife to be brave, smart and modern like the many English women whom he had met during his stay at England.&lt;br /&gt;From then onwards, I began to have horrible thoughts. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; I saw him speak to a female colleague, I would wonder  'Whether he loved her more than me' and worse still 'Whether he loved me at all!' The birth of a daughter- Indira &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Priyadarshini&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; did not change his attitude towards me. I soon began to suffer from terrible headaches and that awful illness called tuberculosis. My condition only changed from bad to worse when my premature baby boy died just two days after his birth. I tried to draw from my husband's family a consolation of some sort (I had long since discarded any attempt to win my husband's love and sympathy) but they looked down upon me as 'ignorance &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;personified' since&lt;/span&gt; I was barely educated. It pained me to hear them call Indira 'an ugly child'. And the irony of the situation was that my husband and I were hailed by our fellow-Indians as the '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Adarsha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Jodi' - 'Ideal Couple'.&lt;br /&gt;What my husband never understood was that I had modern interests too- I was passionate about women's rights and I urged my Muslim friends to educate the women in their family and to remove the purdah system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Despite&lt;/span&gt; the problems pertaining to my health, I held demonstrations at Allahabad in favour of Emancipation Of Women. I also courted arrest twice and gradually (though my husband never realized it) I transformed into a spirited and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;politically&lt;/span&gt; active woman.&lt;br /&gt;But this new-found solace did not last long. I soon fell ill and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Jawahar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (who was at that time serving a prison sentence for speaking out against the British regime) was allowed to visit me on one condition: that he should stay away from Indian Politics.&lt;br /&gt;This condition angered me for I did not want to be a hindrance to my husband's freedom struggle. Though I was barely conscious when he arrived, I managed to whisper in his ear, "What is this about you giving an assurance to the Government? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Do not&lt;/span&gt; give it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;After this&lt;/span&gt; incident, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Jawahar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; would read out to me pieces of his favourite poems and would also try to spend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;as&lt;/span&gt; much time as possible at my bed-side. Whether this sudden change in his behaviour towards me was an act of love or sympathy, I did not know and may never know..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon after this, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Kamala's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; condition became &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;serious&lt;/span&gt; and she was taken to a clinic in Germany. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Jawaharlal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was released from prison on compassionate grounds but soon he had to mourn the death of his wife - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Kamala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Kamala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; never knew that on the day &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;when&lt;/span&gt; she had bravely persuaded her husband to pursue his jail sentence, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Jawaharlal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;realized&lt;/span&gt; the fact that his wife was naturally endowed with the qualities that he had tried to find in other women.&lt;br /&gt;But it was too late.&lt;br /&gt;He had lost an opportunity to love and respect his highly gifted wife and finally, the least that he could do was to dedicate his autobiography : "To &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Kamala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, who is no more."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note to the Reader: I have sketched the life of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Kamala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Nehru in the form of an autobiography only to make the article an interesting read. As to whether &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Kamala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; penned down her thoughts, I have no idea. But all the facts expressed above are accurate and true to the best of my knowledge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-8627573000270664586?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/8627573000270664586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/lotus-that-never-bloomed.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/8627573000270664586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/8627573000270664586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/lotus-that-never-bloomed.html' title='The Lotus that never Bloomed'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Sm2-Uj83cRI/AAAAAAAAABc/xPmO8qnaPs0/s72-c/Kamala.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-7289974309611685228</id><published>2009-07-24T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T09:31:45.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Size-Zero? Now that is a Weighty Issue!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/SmqESu15vkI/AAAAAAAAABQ/4_iNnn78tRw/s1600-h/slim.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 121px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/SmqESu15vkI/AAAAAAAAABQ/4_iNnn78tRw/s400/slim.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362243763684621890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wish I could have a figure like that of Kat or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;yaar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;..", wailed my friend Nita. I was just wondering if cats and cars have excellent &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;figures&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;when&lt;/span&gt; my second companion- Ella -interjected, "You mean &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Katrina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kareena&lt;/span&gt;? Me too. After all, 'size-zero' seems to be the fashion now..".&lt;br /&gt;I found the conversation very boring.&lt;br /&gt;" Come on!", I said, in a desperate attempt to steer the conversation to a different subject, "Let us visit the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;restaurant&lt;/span&gt; right over there". But inside the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;restaurant&lt;/span&gt; too, the same story continued. Nita and Ella ordered a small cup of coffee each (claiming to be on a diet), while I ordered four delicious looking pastries.&lt;br /&gt;"Did you see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Kareena&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; in that black swimsuit in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Kambakht&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ishq&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;?", asked Nita. I had had enough of this meaningless mourning. With my  mouth filled to capacity I managed to point out that the weight of a person is not a major issue at all! So why all the fuss? But I should have remained silent- for Nita and Ella immediately pounced on me with their arguments. When I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;continued&lt;/span&gt; to  stick to my views, Nita shrugged her shoulders and told me (rather pitifully), "Maybe you will never understand."&lt;br /&gt;"And by the way", added Ella, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;throwing&lt;/span&gt; a nasty glance at the half-finished pastries on my plate, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You&lt;/span&gt; need to reduce your weight too.. You've gained five kilograms in the last three months!"&lt;br /&gt;When I returned home, my grandmother (who was watching me with the air of a policeman scrutinizing a culprit) told me sternly that I was 'too thin' ( "as thin as a needle" to be specific) and that in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;her&lt;/span&gt; days, all the actresses used  to be nice and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;plumpy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. She also added that she had prepared some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;laadoos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; for me. "They are in the Kitchen. Eat them", she pleaded, "And try to shed this skinny, ugly look".&lt;br /&gt;I smiled at the irony of the situation.&lt;br /&gt;I made my way to the bedroom first. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;laadoos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; could wait; but not my serious contemplation on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;weight&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;So how is it that in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;yesteryears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, a voluptuous figure was every woman's desire; while now, the fairer sex (well-represented by my cronies) are dying to lose weight?&lt;br /&gt;One reason might be the fact that towards the end of the 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; century, obesity was related to various problems pertaining to the heart. Soon, cooking-oils with low cholesterol and sugar-free capsules became famous. To advertise these commodities, advertisers needed thin models; and gradually slimness entered the fashion industry and subsequently the film industry too.&lt;br /&gt;Another reason is the Indian woman's yearning to fit comfortably into Western wears like tight-fitting jeans, tops, etc.&lt;br /&gt;But the fact of the matter is that having a 'size-zero' is neither a sign of beauty nor brains.&lt;br /&gt;Our tinsel-town actresses may claim to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;feel good&lt;/span&gt; about staying slim. But if feeling good includes fainting while shooting for films and skipping meals everyday, I'd rather not buy that opinion.&lt;br /&gt;So, the next time you plan to go on a diet, make sure that your health gets the higher priority.&lt;br /&gt;'Size-Zero' is after all, a fashion trend; and trends keep changing. Hopefully, the day would soon arrive when the 'curvy but fit' figure would return and I could perhaps turn to Nita and say, "Maybe &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; will never understand!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-7289974309611685228?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/7289974309611685228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/size-zero-now-that-is-weighty-issue.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/7289974309611685228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/7289974309611685228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/size-zero-now-that-is-weighty-issue.html' title='Size-Zero? Now that is a Weighty Issue!'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/SmqESu15vkI/AAAAAAAAABQ/4_iNnn78tRw/s72-c/slim.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-2268893020259854019</id><published>2009-07-24T02:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T09:06:12.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vijayanagar: The Forgotten Kingdom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Smp3X22B5tI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7MCoyTXELc0/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 97px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Smp3X22B5tI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7MCoyTXELc0/s320/images.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362229558080825042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/SHANIC%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/SHANIC%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The year was 1522. A young man, popularly known as '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Paes&lt;/span&gt; the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Portuguese&lt;/span&gt;' was enjoying a stroll on the streets of Vijayanagar. His attire seemed strange in a land where women were draped in a Sari and men in a Dhoti. But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Paes&lt;/span&gt; was a well-informed traveller and was accustomed to all dressing styles. His knowledge about the Italian Cities &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;flourishing&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;after&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; Renaissance was accurate. But India- and especially- &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;South&lt;/span&gt; India seemed to tempt him more than Italy and it had always been his childhood dream to visit this mysterious part of the world that exported rare gems and spices to countries across the globe.&lt;br /&gt;So here was our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Paes&lt;/span&gt;, making his way to one of the popular '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Bazaars&lt;/span&gt;' at Vijayanagar. Unlike the crowded market places in his country; here, the roads that fanned &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;across&lt;/span&gt; the Bazaar were long and broad and could comfortably hold a thousand people at once; and there was absolutely no hindrance to the traffic. The bullock carts were neatly lined up at one end of the road and the people were seen buying and selling their wares at the other end. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Paes&lt;/span&gt; stopped to buy some sweet smelling flowers. His eyes had never feasted upon such rare and fresh flowers in any other country to which he had travelled so far. But what really caught his attention was the sight of a hundred tradesmen selling their diamonds, rubies, pearls and emeralds openly in the bazaar.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt; Every time&lt;/span&gt; a seller chose to close his shop and retreat to his house to take some rest,  he would simply throw a piece of cloth to cover his valuable stones and would retire peacefully with no fear of his goods being stolen. Such was the mutual trust and respect &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; the people of Vijayanagar had for each other!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Paes&lt;/span&gt; noticed a man seated at a corner of the street, watching the busy people at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Bazaar&lt;/span&gt;. The man looked very old. His age had probably crossed hundred. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Paes&lt;/span&gt; chatted with him for a while during which he came to know that before him, another foreigner - by the name of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Abdur&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Razzaq&lt;/span&gt;- had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;arrived&lt;/span&gt; at this place from Central Asia and had stated that "the City of Vijayanagar is such that- the eye has not seen nor the ear heard of any place &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;resembling&lt;/span&gt; it upon the whole earth". &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Paes&lt;/span&gt; enquired about the size of the city and he learnt from the old man that the circumference of the city was more than sixty miles! He added that when a Muslim &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Bahmani&lt;/span&gt; King from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Gulbarga&lt;/span&gt; had come to Vijayanagar to marry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; Princess, the entire road (for six miles) was covered by a sheet of gold and decorated with velvet and other precious gems.&lt;br /&gt;An interested &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Paes&lt;/span&gt; continued to explore the City. He saw a beautiful temple built from pure molten brass near &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Mangalore&lt;/span&gt; and the King's Palace built using Ivory. He was charmed by the innumerable waterways, lakes and orchards that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;adorned&lt;/span&gt; the City which made him admit that Vijayanagar was "as large as Rome and very beautiful to the sight". He also had the opportunity to catch a glimpse of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; King himself. The King's name was Krishna Deva &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Raya&lt;/span&gt; and he was famous for his chivalry, generosity and his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;immense&lt;/span&gt; love for Literature. He was tall, fair and well-built. He was also a cheerful host to Foreigners. Later &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Paes&lt;/span&gt; wrote that the King was "so gallant and perfect in all things!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;Paes&lt;/span&gt; admired the irrigation system of the City. In his own words- "An entire river was dammed up and a huge reservoir was built. From this, the water went to the city in an aqueduct." All in all, he says that the Kingdom of Vijayanagar was "the best-provided city in the world".&lt;br /&gt;With this thought, our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;traveller&lt;/span&gt; left the City. But hardly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;forty&lt;/span&gt; three years had passed since his departure when the neighbouring States  formed a League and launched an attack on Vijayanagar. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt;, due to the over-confidence and foolishness of the King who was ruling Vijayanagar at that time, the entire Empire was crushed by its jealous enemies. All the palaces and temples were destroyed and in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;end&lt;/span&gt;, only a heap of ruins remained. An English Historian wrote , "Never perhaps in the History of the world has such &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;havoc&lt;/span&gt; been wrought...so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;suddenly on&lt;/span&gt; so splendid a city; teeming &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;with a&lt;/span&gt; wealthy and industrious &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;population one&lt;/span&gt; day, and on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;next- seized&lt;/span&gt;...amid scenes of savage massacre."&lt;br /&gt;Today, famous Cities like Bangalore, Mysore and Chennai have been built on the ruins of this Kingdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;But sadly&lt;/span&gt;, not a single pillar stands 'complete and whole' on its soil to echo the past glories of the Kingdom of Vijayanagar...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-2268893020259854019?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/2268893020259854019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/vijayanagar-forgotten-kingdom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2268893020259854019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2268893020259854019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/vijayanagar-forgotten-kingdom.html' title='Vijayanagar: The Forgotten Kingdom'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Smp3X22B5tI/AAAAAAAAAAw/7MCoyTXELc0/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-5227257662112307081</id><published>2009-07-23T23:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T20:12:24.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Execution of Saddam Hussein</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Smp3-kSWobI/AAAAAAAAAA4/2HuuGG5TRd0/s1600-h/Sad.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 135px; height: 98px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Smp3-kSWobI/AAAAAAAAAA4/2HuuGG5TRd0/s400/Sad.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362230223114248626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: In this article, I express my views against the recklessness of the US Government in carrying out the execution of Saddam Hussein, but not against the execution itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might seem absurd to the reader that I am digging up an issue that was laid to rest years ago. But the political unrest in the Middle-East following this execution has tempted me to turn back time and express my views on the incident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Imprisonment is too small a punishment ; but death penalty is too severe'.&lt;br /&gt;These were the two sad facts that people all over the world were torn between while judging the execution of the Great Dictator- Saddam Hussein.&lt;br /&gt;This ruthless execution has raised many legal questions over the years.&lt;br /&gt;As the Indian Government &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;had&lt;/span&gt; rightly pointed out : the correct procedures for the case were not followed during Saddam's trial. It seemed to be a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-planned design of the Americans to crush him. The then President- Mr.Bush had shown a certain amount of impatience to get rid of him as soon as possible. The fact that Saddam was given a chance to appeal appears to be a mere legal formality.&lt;br /&gt;Soon after the execution, the separatist elements of the society used &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Saddam's&lt;/span&gt; execution as an excuse to carry out various riots all over Iraq. The execution also stimulated various terrorist groups that had been lying low- waiting for such an opportunity to launch fresh terror attacks. The minds of the people of Baghdad, especially &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; Sunni Muslims, fell prey to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;instigation&lt;/span&gt; to rebel against the US &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Government&lt;/span&gt;, thus &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;creating&lt;/span&gt; a total turmoil in the country.&lt;br /&gt;President Bush put the lives of the people  all over the world in danger, while he himself remained under high security. The man who wanted to relieve the world of a dictator, has in the process, taken away the lives of thousands &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;of people&lt;/span&gt; through his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;attack&lt;/span&gt; on Iraq. The number of people who died in these attacks may even amount &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;to&lt;/span&gt; more than those who died at the hands of the dictator. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;abuse&lt;/span&gt; of soldiers after the War reveals the sheer indecency on the part of the US Government and the refusal to show the full tape of the Execution of Saddam shows utter cowardice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Man&lt;/span&gt; has no control over another man's life, or his own.&lt;br /&gt;Even if an execution is inevitable and is carried out for the benefit of the people, the accused has every right to defend himself in the court of Law.&lt;br /&gt;But Executions like that of Saddam &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Hussein&lt;/span&gt; only succeed in teaching us to forget the past, fear the present and dread the future..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-5227257662112307081?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/5227257662112307081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/execution-of-saddam-hussain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/5227257662112307081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/5227257662112307081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/execution-of-saddam-hussain.html' title='The Execution of Saddam Hussein'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Smp3-kSWobI/AAAAAAAAAA4/2HuuGG5TRd0/s72-c/Sad.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-7061400171096256843</id><published>2009-07-23T05:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T02:31:36.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today's Slave - Tomorrow's Master</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Smp4cjkmnBI/AAAAAAAAABA/hs53YGiNois/s1600-h/map.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 106px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Smp4cjkmnBI/AAAAAAAAABA/hs53YGiNois/s400/map.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362230738318433298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Super Power.&lt;br /&gt;And the country that comes to our minds impromptu is The United States of America - A country that subtly dictates the decisions taken by nations all over the world. But this same word- 'Super Power' would have caused a different reaction in our ancestors. They would have recalled countries like England and France (the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;then&lt;/span&gt; major colonial powers).&lt;br /&gt;So how exactly does a country become a super power?&lt;br /&gt;According to well-known dictators like Adolf Hitler (Germany) and Mussolini (Italy), &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a nation becomes greater by defeating other nations&lt;/span&gt;. Their statements proved to be impracticable and mere figments of fantasy after they suffered humiliating defeats. Thus, one may conclude that a nation's greatness lies not only in its missile-power but also in its intelligentsia.&lt;br /&gt;For England and France, setting up of colonies required careful planning and execution. Similarly, the engineers of USA had to use all their skill in order to design the weapons and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ammunition&lt;/span&gt; that eventually brought them to the world's forefront.&lt;br /&gt;But the most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;important&lt;/span&gt; question is this- Is the Super Power tag permanent?&lt;br /&gt;The sad lesson that History has taught us over the years is that every &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sudden Upswing&lt;/span&gt; has an equally &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sudden Downfall&lt;/span&gt;. England and France greedily entered the World War, but their only rewards were debts and deaths. The US-President interfered with the political affairs of the Middle-East failing to notice the forthcoming recession in his own country. But this has always been the Dance of Fate. Power never accumulates at the hands of a single country for long. Wasn't India too a rich country before the arrival of the British?&lt;br /&gt;In contemporary world History, the Global Recession has set up a platform for developing countries to voice out their concerns. I believe that the time is ripe for the once-oppressed Asian Countries to take over the reins of World Politics.&lt;br /&gt;The fact that India has still managed to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;maintain&lt;/span&gt; her economic growth at the rate of 6% to 8% p.a.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; during this major economic slow-down came as a rude shock to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Western&lt;/span&gt; Powers. What seemed to mock them further was the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;emergence&lt;/span&gt; of China as a country of great stability and ability. All the world bows down before the Japanese Technology and Korea's Nuclear Test clearly brings forth the message: Size - no Limit.&lt;br /&gt;Let us take a closer look at our own Motherland. India has launched her satellites independently, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;upgraded&lt;/span&gt; her education system and is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;fier&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;cely&lt;/span&gt; fighting to patch up the rift between the rich &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; the poor. The Prime Minister- Dr.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Manmohan&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Singh who was responsible for the &lt;/span&gt;'Liberalization of Economy' and 'Nuclear Deal' has placed India in a much more comfortable position now, than in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;yesteryears&lt;/span&gt;. The French President had recently invited our PM to adorn &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; Republic Day &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;celebrations and&lt;/span&gt; the Indian &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;troops&lt;/span&gt; marched smartly at the Champs-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Elysees&lt;/span&gt;. The recent decision by our PM to hold talks with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Pakistan&lt;/span&gt; has promised a new dawn in the relationship between the two countries. Now, Pakistan is showing clear indications of resuming the Hafiz-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Saeed&lt;/span&gt; trial case according to its news line. Meanwhile, our neighbour- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Sri&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Lanka&lt;/span&gt; has successfully wiped out the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;LTTE&lt;/span&gt; terrorists from their land.&lt;br /&gt;Coming back to the Western World, President &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt; was forced to admit earlier this month that unemployment was on the rise in his country.This is not surprising, considering the fact that 'dropping out of school' has become a fashion in his country over the past few years. USA owes some of its major developments  in the fields of space and medicine to  the incomparable brains of its citizens of Asian descent. But now that more and more Asians are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;preferring&lt;/span&gt; to serve their own Motherland, it is high time that USA designs an alternative to deal with the situation.&lt;br /&gt;In England on the other hand, it has been predicted that Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth would soon run out of funds. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;corruption&lt;/span&gt; taking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;place&lt;/span&gt; in the British Parliament has also been brought to light, further adding to the country's shame.&lt;br /&gt;USA is still trying to put its best foot forward to lead the World despite being pulled back by its own problems that are rapidly increasing day by day.&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, somewhere in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;heart&lt;/span&gt; of our Continent, in the grasslands, an Asiatic Lion wakes up from its long slumber. The time has arrived for the next cycle- the Power will soon be passed on.&lt;br /&gt;But the Dance of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Fate&lt;/span&gt; continues...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-7061400171096256843?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/7061400171096256843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/todays-slave-tomorrows-master.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/7061400171096256843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/7061400171096256843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/todays-slave-tomorrows-master.html' title='Today&apos;s Slave - Tomorrow&apos;s Master'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Smp4cjkmnBI/AAAAAAAAABA/hs53YGiNois/s72-c/map.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1886720198399427733.post-2346840148529966141</id><published>2009-07-23T05:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T10:14:34.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chod Do Aanchal!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Smp45TGnF5I/AAAAAAAAABI/9aeCoBDV7lM/s1600-h/sari.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 80px; height: 148px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Smp45TGnF5I/AAAAAAAAABI/9aeCoBDV7lM/s400/sari.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362231232113874834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our External Affairs Minister (Dr.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Shashi&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tharoor&lt;/span&gt;) had written an article titled: Save the Sari from a Sorry Fate.. Sadly, his article met with a sorry fate too as it did not receive the usual applause from the fairer sex in India. In fact, the response was so much wrought with anger and outrage that set our dear Minister musing "Where did I go wrong?"&lt;br /&gt; So where &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;does&lt;/span&gt; he and all other such birds of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;feather&lt;/span&gt; who flock together go wrong?&lt;br /&gt;In my perspective, the major problem lies in the fact that our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;grand&lt;/span&gt; moms&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;grand&lt;/span&gt;pas still hold on to their &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;grand&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;opinion that&lt;/span&gt; the sari is a traditional attire which protects the modesty of a woman . Well, if you feel that the public display of nearly half of your stomach is a mark of decency, one should also lift the ban on Short Tops!&lt;br /&gt; The Sari is supposed to teach a woman the virtue of discipline. A long piece of cloth tightly draped around a woman's legs would ensure that she walks gracefully with short steps in a manner that bears testimony to the popular phrase : Women should only be seen; not heard.  If we are expecting our ladies to attend to their various jobs tightly bundled up in a sari, I'm afraid that India would soon be left behind in our fast paced world .&lt;br /&gt;  Come the Indian Summer! and all the men in our neighbourhood resort to the extreme measure (doing a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Salman&lt;/span&gt; Khan act of going topless) to take refuge from the cruel Sun. Nobody spares a thought for the poor woman silently suffering near-suffocation in her 'modest' Sari.&lt;br /&gt;  Everybody feels proud of a '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Saina&lt;/span&gt;' or a '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Sania&lt;/span&gt;'... No matter what they wear-- only their talent matters. But we must learn to apply the fact that 'Talent overrides Attire' in the case of a common woman too. A woman's modesty, humility, decency and ability is governed by her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;words&lt;/span&gt; and deeds and not her dressing style. A woman clad in jeans and T-shirt is worthy of more respect than a woman who wears a Sari but flaunts her body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;       In fact&lt;/span&gt;, the Sari also reveals the early man's inability to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;design&lt;/span&gt; comfortable clothes. After the sewing machine was invented, the whole world upgraded its manner of dressing. It is time for us to move on too!&lt;br /&gt;  We still wear a Sari on important occasions and the Sari &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;continues&lt;/span&gt; to be a symbol of grandeur at wedding celebrations. Therefore, one need not fear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; extinction of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;the Sari.&lt;br /&gt;  But a man ( who has long-since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;discarded&lt;/span&gt; the Dhoti and has limited it to the four walls of his house) displays his own backwardness and narrow-mindedness if he expects a woman to continue to wear this traditional costume.&lt;br /&gt;  The message is strong and clear   to all the men who are still clinging on to the Sari-'&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Chod&lt;/span&gt; Do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Aanchal&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Zamana&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Kya&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Kahega&lt;/span&gt;?'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1886720198399427733-2346840148529966141?l=nishaconstin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/feeds/2346840148529966141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/chod-do-aanchal.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2346840148529966141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1886720198399427733/posts/default/2346840148529966141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nishaconstin.blogspot.com/2009/07/chod-do-aanchal.html' title='Chod Do Aanchal!'/><author><name>Shani Constin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14081232078707108592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T7F7XLJEwtA/Tj7AigRoGII/AAAAAAAAAEI/fR7mAgM4hdY/s220/ssss.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZAtwHGxa4xw/Smp45TGnF5I/AAAAAAAAABI/9aeCoBDV7lM/s72-c/sari.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
