tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204275772024-03-14T08:09:00.458-07:00Silvered Glassshilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-78925745468048898402014-11-19T07:30:00.001-08:002014-11-19T07:31:23.815-08:00Grad School lessons..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The last few months have been a blur.....<br />
A daze of frenetic activity. A lot of movement...but not really going anywhere.<br />
<br />
Not surprisingly, it took something not going my way to slow me down, and make me think. To look around, take a deep breath and exist.<br />
If there is something I know I have learnt in Graduate School it is more about who I am. The PhD was intended to turn me into an encyclopedia about my favourite virus and to learn the scientific method. Along the way, I've been surprised to find that many Grad school situations have instead taught me about myself.<br />
I've learnt that it is okay to be scared, to admit to being scared and to seek help. I have had an opportunity to more intimately explore my many insecurities and to accept many of them. I have learnt more about the person I am, more importantly I have figured out what I am not.<br />
This has perhaps been the most sobering lesson. I have learnt my limits and my limitations. By being pushed too far, I have finally figured out how much I can handle. And by failing, I have realized the circumstances under which I can succeed.<br />
Most recently, I have learnt how much or little I can handle at a given time. Accepting that I am not the best at many things, and that that is who I am too. Most importantly, I have learnt that it is okay for me to accept I cannot do as much as my closest colleague.<br />
Many friends, colleagues and family members have patiently watched me stumble through Grad school. They have gone against their instinct and let me learn my lessons on my own, my way and at my time - for this I am grateful.<br />
I know that I may stray from these lessons occasionally, but hopefully the fact that I learnt them all through experience will help me re-learn them more quickly. In the meanwhile, I can always strive to do better.....</div>
shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-91829136277973364952014-11-15T13:40:00.003-08:002014-11-15T13:42:30.051-08:00A Haiku in lieu of a paper?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You daunting blank page,<br />
No word, no inspiration,<br />
Only a cold white space.<br />
<br />
And never before,<br />
The din of so much silence,<br />
How to break this spell?<br />
<br />
Sat me in a chair,<br />
Sixty minutes, forced typing,<br />
No stops, no re-do.<br />
<br />
Voila! I see words,<br />
And no longer a blank page,<br />
Now to stay focused...<br />
<br />
Sigh</div>
shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-85984446438735408432014-10-11T14:16:00.002-07:002014-10-11T14:26:37.131-07:00Are you there self-confidence? It's me Shilpa....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am Shilpa Iyer, and I have <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impostor_syndrome">Imposter Syndrome</a>........</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It confused me, annoyed and amused me, plagued me and completely paralyzed me. How could I enjoy the luxury of self-confidence in other spheres, yet in many intellectual pursuits be rendered immobile by crippling self doubt?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imposter syndrome is defined <a href="https://counseling.caltech.edu/general/InfoandResources/Impostor">here</a> as "a <span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">collection of feelings of inadequacy that persist even in face of information that indicates that the opposite is true". All things considered and keeping my dismaying ego in check, I have had instances of positive reinforcement. I am a PhD candidate at a well- reputed university, conducting research (shameless plug </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14FxKTAuQ0w" style="line-height: 24px;">here</a><span style="line-height: 24px;">) under the guidance of a brilliant woman scientist (cue obsequious behavior...). I enjoy my work, am not too- terrible at it, and am not immensely disliked (comments to the contrary while welcome will be dealt with sternly). To my naive eye, it appears that there is no need or place for arresting doubt.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">Yet, it rears its ugly head, without warning or even </span></span><span style="line-height: 24px;">provocation sometimes. While the company of <a href="http://www.news.com.au/finance/highachievers-suffering-from-imposter-syndrome/story-e6frfm1i-1226779707766">fellow 'impostors'</a> is comforting and surprisingly reassuring - the debilitating reality is far from desirable. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">A simple wrong answer, or a badly- thought out idea is enough to send me down a spiral of negativity - with no speed breaker to slow me down, and no hand railing to quell the doubt.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">" I just got lucky..."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">" They haven't figured out how little I know...."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">" Why am I not as smart as xxx and yyy?"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">" What made me think I could do this?"..</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">" Are you sure I am not dumb...?"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">And on and on, until an erstwhile productive day is now bathed in gloom.....</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">In a bid to sieze control, I took this </span><a href="http://www.empresshasnoclothes.com/articles-detail.php?aid=520&cid=4" style="line-height: 24px;">quiz </a><span style="line-height: 24px;">. I scored a high 25 putting me squarely in the realm of high Imposter Phenomenon (IP) - great! Contrary to my expectations however, the result caused me to heave a sigh of relief. There, that was my first step toward acknowledging that I had a problem. I indulged myself with further reading to discover that a </span><a href="http://www.forbes.com/sites/margiewarrell/2014/04/03/impostor-syndrome/" style="line-height: 24px;">large number of people suffer from it </a><span style="line-height: 24px;">, there appear to be differences in </span><a href="http://www.paulineroseclance.com/pdf/ip_high_achieving_women.pdf" style="line-height: 24px;">gender susceptibility</a><span style="line-height: 24px;"> and that in </span><u style="line-height: 24px;">small doses</u><span style="line-height: 24px;"> doubt and caution are actually beneficial (operative word(s) being small doses). </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">For me a corollary to </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phrases_from_The_Hitchhiker%27s_Guide_to_the_Galaxy#Answer_to_the_Ultimate_Question_of_Life.2C_the_Universe.2C_and_Everything_.2842.29" style="line-height: 24px;">42</a><span style="line-height: 24px;"> has been </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/There_are_known_knowns" style="line-height: 24px;">' Known knowns, known unknowns and unknown unknowns'</a><span style="line-height: 24px;"> .Whether it is the fear and embarrassment of not knowing the answer to every question, or just the new-found knowledge that I know I suffer from imposter syndrome, I do not know why an episode is triggered and that this lack of knowledge makes it hard/ impossible to prevent another episode. I am nonetheless optimistic, if I cannot prevent the occurrence perhaps acknowledging the symptoms may help shorten the duration that I am under its spell.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">For now, in lieu of answers and coping mechanisms, all I have is the admission - I am Shilpa Iyer, and I have Imposter Syndrome. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
</div>
shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-57467707374069679802014-07-09T18:03:00.000-07:002014-07-09T18:05:03.297-07:00Saying goodbye but unable to let go....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
'The dog represents all that is best in man' - Etienne Charlet<br />
Indistinguishable from absolute truth, a dog-ma if you will.....Tired cliches cannot soften the blow, for the truth is that we lost one of our best friends, and we will always mourn, we will be painfully aware that while we were a part of his life, he completed ours....<br />
<br />
Vivid playful sunshine,<br />
Not a cloud in sight,<br />
To cushion my guilt,<br />
To drink in my tears.<br />
<br />
A grassy square,<br />
A final resting place,<br />
Youthful mischief-<br />
Forever immortalized (in an aging form).<br />
<br />
Precious, penultimate moments,<br />
Adorned in trust and mirth,<br />
So quickly at rest,<br />
Like cotton candy in your veins.<br />
<br />
How did it unravel so quickly?<br />
One single thread,<br />
Valiantly fighting,<br />
To keep it whole.<br />
<br />
And we will not recover,<br />
One secure corner forever to haunt,<br />
The silence -<br />
So overpowering, so deafening.<br />
<br />
For we are guilty,<br />
Wrenching pain,<br />
Bartered for lifelong peace.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
We miss you my darling Boo.</div>
shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-15022292791284233462014-06-15T19:34:00.001-07:002014-06-15T19:44:56.201-07:00Who will I wish this Father's Day?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
How can I make that call, when I can feel the silence that will greet me?<br />
<br />
How can I reconcile,<br />
This painful din,<br />
With that numbing silence?<br />
<br />
No one to wish,<br />
No one to call dad,<br />
No one to replace.<br />
<br />
Carried forward,<br />
And how long,<br />
In what form?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Where are you now?<br />
Why is this distance,<br />
So, so hard?<br />
<br />
I am lucky I had you for so long,<br />
But never enough,<br />
And the years ahead cloaked in loss.<br />
<br />
Today if I called,<br />
What would reply?<br />
A vacant room,<br />
A silent watch,<br />
An old T-shirt.<br />
<br />
Only the space in my life would echo.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzG2J6TdaBWwYIXIERfowPCxE0g58KhnvImOdFriWa6CyHM4cdpkXPD3CC1lAzK7nbnf1-dBaYnH0ZPe9Cmjd6XoHyry_xoyrC9NSChJ29AhTL4hvTwN5k8yrNQRQYAEhQH9Mo/s1600/18594.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzG2J6TdaBWwYIXIERfowPCxE0g58KhnvImOdFriWa6CyHM4cdpkXPD3CC1lAzK7nbnf1-dBaYnH0ZPe9Cmjd6XoHyry_xoyrC9NSChJ29AhTL4hvTwN5k8yrNQRQYAEhQH9Mo/s1600/18594.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With daddy - my forever partner in crime </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinWBmvnbgVCnshTj1zYpeKuoh9gA3y2K2lxkZORCMNpxUK9li3TVBbpZXjHyQpFPnaCKtbO94FmDRW2eg8FTNFNQO1LTXGyONMlu5OvzRqEKkeo-Ho9QK_K9kin1OuZSzo0_sv/s1600/18593.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinWBmvnbgVCnshTj1zYpeKuoh9gA3y2K2lxkZORCMNpxUK9li3TVBbpZXjHyQpFPnaCKtbO94FmDRW2eg8FTNFNQO1LTXGyONMlu5OvzRqEKkeo-Ho9QK_K9kin1OuZSzo0_sv/s1600/18593.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kindred spirits...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicqY5RxzFmrNswWbATTQsrHcFkKil7fovJQURlZccs0dbwSZe8zcpP6MY7Tg9Fe_P7kLNVoFuXJCzNfSbx196wvi2Is9Qxo24buEoaca_wEeAUmRd09yB-LTAUj3h4FUaZXAtb/s1600/18552.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicqY5RxzFmrNswWbATTQsrHcFkKil7fovJQURlZccs0dbwSZe8zcpP6MY7Tg9Fe_P7kLNVoFuXJCzNfSbx196wvi2Is9Qxo24buEoaca_wEeAUmRd09yB-LTAUj3h4FUaZXAtb/s1600/18552.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was a tad clingy....</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjncPkBWJQttHCWEvgOiqYCYdopZUr7-qMFvYeBm8fKjaDrubSgbKdWcdK1JKPaNIkcKtHMqDInIdjt8oP9eB3JjkmWKQp1V4HUpRp6esDkaUgSJaSFLZiDE5YUfNoR_0B_IeqS/s1600/18504_DadMomShilpa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjncPkBWJQttHCWEvgOiqYCYdopZUr7-qMFvYeBm8fKjaDrubSgbKdWcdK1JKPaNIkcKtHMqDInIdjt8oP9eB3JjkmWKQp1V4HUpRp6esDkaUgSJaSFLZiDE5YUfNoR_0B_IeqS/s1600/18504_DadMomShilpa.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love you Dad</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-81078919743170441532013-10-26T10:54:00.001-07:002013-10-26T10:55:10.772-07:00Reel life... real life!I was transported again.... just like that, without my precise permission.. on a whim I was transported.<br />
<br />
I love films.. I love being caught up in a story that is not quite my own, but so close. I (sadistically), took to furiously reading the wiki entry on every movie I sat down to watch. How does it end? Does he survive? Who dies? Who gets the girl? Whose kingdom is lost? I needed to know. In part to satisfy our eternal quest for optimism, in part because I am just that much of a control freak. I thought that knowing the end would ruin the journey... would mar the dialogue, render it a shell of a story.<br />
<br />
Quite the contrary - knowing the end does not preclude my being lost in the folds of the story. Not truly against my will, more without my knowing, I fall right into that altered space. Where only the story being told exists, only the characters have voice and their journey is mine. I cannot explain how films affect me. How real they seem, how screen joy fills my heart and bubbles over... and how a story's despair drags me with it. <br />
<br />
Despite knowing everything I'm about to witness, I am amazed at how movies can affect me so. The ability of film to capture my attention, to take me along and for me to allow myself to be amidst the characters, and experience their story, shakes me alive!<br />
<br />
It also gives me optimism, we all know that life will someday end. But despite knowing that, perhaps we can just enjoy the ride!<br />
<br />
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</div>shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-72149577406082599212013-09-13T10:46:00.003-07:002013-09-13T10:47:00.852-07:00Lab songIf you're anything like me - grew up addicted to Friends and now a self-proclaimed lab rat... this song might hit the spot. Either that, or you'd have another reminder of how socially challenged I am - either ways it cannot change how I'm spending my weekend....<br />
<br />
Cloning - required, but oh so loathed! <br />
<br />
Here's a ( bad) twist to Phoebe's song from Friends<br />
<br />
Original song -<br />
I'm in the shower and i'm writing a song<br />
stop me if you've heard it<br />
My skin is soapy and my hair is wet<br />
And Tegrin spelt backwards is Nirget<br />
<br />
(chorus)<br />
lather,rinse,repeat<br />
and lather ,rinse, repeat<br />
and lather,rinse,repeat<br />
as needed<br />
<br />
Lab song....<br />
I've been in lab for ten hours and I'm writing a song<br />
Stop me if you've heard it,<br />
I've forgotten how to blink, my eyes are red<br />
GGATCC spelt backwards and BamHI will cut it.<br />
<br />
(chorus)<br />
Ligate, transform, screen<br />
and ligate, transform, screen,<br />
and ligate, transform, screen,<br />
as needed.<br />
<br />
<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-34261895630405352422013-08-13T14:48:00.000-07:002013-08-13T14:48:07.796-07:00Storm after the calm!It has been a whole year since I dabbled last. I know some of you have enjoyed the peace- I know who you are, I will find you! I cannot help but write in spurts, my discipline to write (among other things) is dismal, but once a year is not never!
Today I feel my age, I feel grown up. I am aware of how each experience has molded me, left its impression on me. I know I am not as carefree as I used to be - and I know how some things weigh on me. But, I feel less apologetic about who I am today, I am at peace with where I am (even though it is nowhere close to where I eventually want to be), I am content today. I value relationships more today, know my true friends and know myself. I did not think that peace was possible after losing dad, perhaps it isn't but a compromise, a realisation that life must and will meander forth.
So with this new realisation forged, I walk on, forward and toward a new dawn.. I am back!
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br /></div>
shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-87422253899893930502013-08-13T14:47:00.000-07:002013-08-14T07:59:41.500-07:00A breath.. too short<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><br />
Another restless night,<br />
Hopeless wondering,<br />
Faithless musing;<br />
And all for naught.<br />
<br />
A broken dream,<br />
Each painful day,<br />
A shard of sparkling glass.<br />
<br />
Vibrant colours dance together,<br />
Each part a part of a whole,<br />
So tightly woven, so strongly bound,<br />
One gaping hole to haunt.<br />
<br />
Each passing dawn,<br />
Each weeping dusk,<br />
Drags me forward,<br />
But my spirit stayed with that day.<br />
<br />
Walking on diamonds,<br />
So lucky, so charmed,<br />
But I walk alone.<br />
<br />
A sunset beckons,<br />
Dawn of a new decade,<br />
I want to carry you on,<br />
And I don't know how.<br />
<br />
shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-88671113407583560292011-07-22T08:48:00.000-07:002011-07-22T11:22:47.202-07:00Blues on a sunny day........It has crept up on me again - and it will soon be time to move...However did I let this happen again. I swore; the last time would be just that - the last! Yet, here I am again...on the verge of disappearing from a circle that has grown to surround me, to keep me safe and smiling. Yes, and to keep me chattering away- and we all know what a tragedy that would be should it change!<br /><br />I've been watching ( euphemism for being addicted to naturally), a TV show that among other things is about friendship, loyalty and protective spirit. I've meant to write this post for a good while now - however aforementioned TV show has had me caught up in its tangled arms. I have tried to scribble ( is it still called that when it involves spacebar and backspace?) out a few words every now and again - but with my most current distraction ruling the roost ( TV-wise anyhow), my writing is even worse than usual. And again as usual - I must ask y'alls indulgence here....<br /><br />What does it mean to move away ..to leave everything I love about this place behind? It saddens me ...I have met some amazing people here. They have, among other things helped me begin a process of self betterment. You know who you are...and your job is not even nearly half-done! Serious politics, geeky science, loud games of counterstrike..... now the silence will be unnerving. Hours spent decoding the mysteries of upcoming fall fashion..the hunt for that perfect pair of red sandals...A sip here and a stroke there..Masterpieces that now adorn all our walls (for explanation of that scroll to the bottom where I shall shamelessly flaunt my painting skills...NOT!). I have discovered something that both surprises and irks me - I might be able to handle being around children (naturally above a certain age, and with the option of being returned to parent as and when )...but still. Anyone who knows me...knows of me even , will know what this means. It has come from meeting and getting to know two wonderful kids- intelligent and so very well behaved. Amazingly..the sight of me doesn't make them quake or disappear either...the children these days are definitely tough! I'll miss the mid-morning phone calls to discuss work, lunch, the evening plans ( which everyone knows is not something I really bother about..plans? what plans?), movies..coffee...all those words that I am allowed a day ( 2000 isn't it?) spent on that phone call...but it makes me smile. From ugly fights, to leaky roofs, from a craving that's been fed to a secret spot to talk ...to let my guard down and cry...This place....the people I have been lucky to know have made it more than home.<br /><br />I am scared today - a new city beckons, a new place. A new start...a new worry - Am I too old to do this again? Will I fail ? Worse...what if I am not smart enough? Will I be that success story I've dreamt about for so many years? Will I make my family proud...will I make my daddy proud? Will I, once again..be my daddy's girl? I am scared........<br /><br />I am terrified....as I move away. I am terrified to be leaving this place and all that is familiar. More than that, I am terrified I will lose all y'all. That I will lose the bonhomie I am now so used to, I will lose the comfort that has become familiar and the feeling of being around family even when mine is many miles away. I am terrified you will forget me...that distance will creep in and everything will change...I am terrified that I will have lost you.<br /><br />But I have brought this upon us..my group here...And it is my burden isn't it?<br />All I can ask is this.....Let me go....but don't; let me go........<br /><br /><br /><br />Yes yes as promised here is Beaky....the psychedelic peacock....Something to take away from the gravity of this post. Nothing like a purple peacock now is there? <br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTiS8OMsbKOskQDVpEScYGJDvKRw0cSRtKQiRr4aQD_lQ6pe_kBjAt_y6I-2QT_E54i-oPr4paByrjl4wmW3UYC8IGYc2iyd_kej1oeI9CbHcrUVKoxFj_tgluzq9JoYaBdGy/s1600/photo.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTiS8OMsbKOskQDVpEScYGJDvKRw0cSRtKQiRr4aQD_lQ6pe_kBjAt_y6I-2QT_E54i-oPr4paByrjl4wmW3UYC8IGYc2iyd_kej1oeI9CbHcrUVKoxFj_tgluzq9JoYaBdGy/s400/photo.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632213561172725346" /></a>shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-33221892163584146972011-01-04T14:25:00.000-08:002011-01-04T14:30:00.692-08:00Fluttering of a third eye...Memories of a place called home,<div>Tarnished by a perplexing new address-</div><div>Love and warmth from this magical space</div><div>Has found its final resting place.</div><div><br /></div><div>Tentative beginnings,</div><div>Virgin footsteps in the snow</div><div>Short-lived, erased by rain</div><div>New memories strewn like forgotten gold.</div><div><br /></div><div>And in this whirlpool</div><div>One final decision-</div><div>To drop anchor</div><div>To watch it sink to a sandy floor.</div><div><br /></div><div>As a dust cloud settles,</div><div>The dancing has left my feet.</div><div>I curl up to sleep,</div><div>My heart flutters unforced.</div><div><br /></div><div>One eye fixed-</div><div>On an open suitcase.</div>shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-5379201806740460922010-11-11T16:21:00.000-08:002010-11-11T16:38:33.582-08:00My mother's daughterMommy was here visiting me for a few weeks.Now don't get me wrong, she isn't loud or bossy, aggressive or dominating ...although that does sound like someone lovable we all know..But I digress...Without her, my house is so quiet, so empty and just a little less welcoming.Having mom here, was almost like having a slice of home and childhood brought to me.<br /><br />Mothers and daughters...a wonderfully done-to-death topic. The fights are legendary, the competition ageless, exacting expectations boundless and the love ...endless. Mom has been through so much. So much sacrifice, such struggle, many many tears she has wiped away whilst hiding her own from me. Mommy is both my gentle and delicate person to be protected and also my rock when I am weak. From her, perhaps I might learn someday of selfless love.<br /><br />She and I have had a journey....oh! and what a journey...Six flags will pale in comparison to our rollercoaster. Today I am a little older, a little calmer and fervently hoping, a little wiser...I understand her better today.I understand that she and I are different people, more importantly I realise that that is okay. I enjoy this new turn of the ride...<br /><br />Often people say their mom is their best friend....I beg to differ.I don't want to compress and force this wonderfully new relationship into a slot with an existing tag..<br /><br />Today....I am happy being my mother's daughter.<br /><br /><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-25456950486643067792010-04-30T08:53:00.000-07:002010-04-30T08:59:02.613-07:00One last sad smile....For so many days,<div>An imposing wall,</div><div>A second nature that thrives,</div><div>On denial.</div><div><br /></div><div>One day melts into another-</div><div>On a chain they're strung.</div><div>So perfect; so fragile,</div><div>Never a cause for concern.</div><div><br /></div><div>But one simple monologue,</div><div>A wrist watch,</div><div>And the wall is breached-</div><div>It crumbles.</div><div><br /></div><div>The wound opens again,</div><div>And I can't stop the bleeding.</div><div><br /></div>shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-74144947771238208722010-03-01T12:58:00.000-08:002010-03-01T13:44:10.036-08:00A unifying threadI am back...after a long hiatus.<br /><br />This time away has afforded me a chance to think..to reflect ( all those great things that are not quite me )..But there is no getting around it, every day I find something that can both separate us, but can also be a unifying thread.<br /><br />This past year has been difficult, so difficult.I have chosen my own way of dealing with losing dad.It seems to work best for me right now...I pretend that it never happened.That I never lost my advisor,my cool guy, my gardening buddy.My comrade on every happy and loud Sunday morning.And that one person who always believed in me...even when self confidence was at an all-time low.<br /><br />Late last year ,I attended a memorial service for someone I had known briefly and was fond of.A wound had been re-opened.I was reminded again of how fragile life really is...how uncertain it can be.But how wonderful...and how in that span you have the ability to make something great of your life.<br /><br />It is always so touching to hear stories of past memories .Soon after dad passed away, I wouldn't have any of it.I didn't want to hear stories from the past, that would only force me to accept the present...But today..there are some days, listening to stories,most that I've heard before,it makes me smile.Thinking of dad as a youngster,bullying the neighbour's kids...standing up for his friends and siblings,relishing his favorite roadside food,stealing his uncle's car..all these warm memories make me smile.I am trying to block out the last year ...the illness..the weakness ,the irritability and pain.I don't want that to be the way I remember him most recently...but what can I do? When I try and see him in my mind..that's all that I can conjure up- Daddy weak and frail, walking unsteadily,gasping for breath,lying dwarfed by a hospital bed,hand riddled with needles and pain, scared...<br /><br />Why did that illness take from me my memories of daddy? The cheeriest man,the loudest man couldn't string two sentences together without gasping or wheezing in between.Daddy ,who insisted that roadside food was totally safe ...wasn't allowed to eat it anymore.He would sniff sadly as we drove by.From the man who held my hand when I took my first steps...to the man who leaned heavily on me when he could barely manage steps of his own.From the bravest man I know,who insisted that no question was not worth asking,"What's the worst that they can say? No...that's the worst right?"..to a man whose face belied his fear when we wheeled him through those hospital doors.<br /><br />My experience with cancer has always been a sad one.This one crushed me...it left me no will to live.I bet there are many others like me who have suffered through this terrible disease.Who have lost people they loved like life itself, and have lost to horrifying deaths like Daddy.Sometimes it is through these experiences,through such suffering that you find a common bond.I recently met someone ( who is now very important to me), through this process.Having lost her own mother very young,she has helped me regain a semblance of my zest for life.Something as personal as family and loss can help you forge bonds and find common ground.I believe in that now.<br /><br />Something struck me at the memorial service I mentioned above.Listening to friends share their stories from an earlier time...I was reminded of stories we heard from people who had known dad.No one really remembers bad incidents or tells you of hurtful times...all they remember of a person's life is the good stuff.The happy days..the mischief..the laughs.<br /><br />Memorial services are done differently where I am from.But what struck me at this,my first one in the US,was how similar they really are.A celebration of life, gratitude that you knew the person,perhaps a sign to let go of any remaining anger and a hope for the family to find acceptance and peace.The words were different...the colours,the language,the people...but the sentiment..the tears and the prayers..they were all the same.<br /><br />Through out our lives we believe that language,race,culture and traditions are what defines us.Makes us who we are,and in doing so make us different from each other.<br /><br />That day..I realised that in death,it is those very same things that unite us , that joins all our lives together with a common,unifying thread.<br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-7953511770377032292009-11-08T11:14:00.000-08:002009-11-08T11:56:39.335-08:00Now isn't this Ironic?So there is this chance this one was inspired from the PhD comics...I've been reading them obsessively,have lost my sense of reality,and have needed reminding recently that they are fictional characters..Gasp!<br />Dealing with delusion has never been easy now has it....Forgive me this one indulgence!<br /><br />Now this is Ironic!<br /><br /><br />A grad student turned ninety eight<br />Took the walk,got scooped the next day<br />You're starving,but look how much you weigh<br />You race to save your gel,but you're too late<br />Isn't it ironic...don't you think<br /><br />It's like the roton who won't listen to a word you say<br />It's a free slice,but it's already stale<br />It's the paper draft that just didn't take<br />Who would've thought..it needed figures.<br /><br /><br />Mr.Smarty Pants' head began to sway<br />Fell asleep at a talk,one he gave meeting day<br />I screamed"Eureka!I knew I was right"..<br />Oops I'm looking at it from the wrong side<br />Well isn't that nice<br />And isn't it ironic..don't you think<br /><br /><br />Well your PI has a funny way of sneaking up on you<br />When your gel didn't run well,and the bands aren't right<br />Your post doc has a weird sense of humor when<br />He says you have to play music to his mice<br />And he isn't joking<br /><br />It's showing up with a cloning manual on a date<br />It's talking prion disease while sharing a steak<br />It's writing a grant proposal to your future wife<br />It's making her first author<br />And being set for life<br /><br />That isn't ironic..do you think...<br />Very normal...I do think<br /><br />Deadlines have a funny way of sneaking up on you<br />You achieve nothing,yet you pass out<br />Yet you pass out<br /><br /><br />I'm toying with the idea of adding a link of me singing this version to music...hmmm. Either because I'm so wonderfully gifted..or the unlikely possibility of not wanting to work on paper that's due...<br />Maybe I'll conduct a poll instead...let me know what you think.. <input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-64757080016299986782009-10-28T10:07:00.000-07:002009-10-28T10:13:56.867-07:00Volatile....You taught me to walk<br />Today I lead<br />Faltering<br />Frail<br />Unsteady<br />Is it still you?<br /><br />A tuft of hair<br />One painful wheeze<br />I ache to protect you<br />To comfort<br />To keep you safe<br />I failed.<br /><br />Our roles were reversed<br />So quickly<br />So dependent<br />And child-like<br /><br />I'll do better,please come back.<br /><br />One fateful day<br />A haunting hour<br />You disappeared<br />Into a void<br /><br />And I'm still here<br />Why.<br /><br /><br /><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-24877809406329976362009-10-11T12:15:00.000-07:002009-10-11T13:09:30.637-07:00Homo Scientificus ??As always....most of my blog posts are inspired this way.Makes you wonder what I'm thinking of when I'm chatting with you on the phone , eh? Back to the point of course...I got thinking, are scientists a whole new breed? Are we a species so far removed from the world, that a brief description would read more like a survivors guide?<br /><br />I continued to ponder earlier mentioned qaundry..hmmmm<br />Let us christen our universe 'Eppendorfia'....and peer into its mysterious workings...<br /><br />Romance in our universe<br /><br />Ahh candy fluff...none that is as saccharine as-<br />"Your gels are a marvel to behold"<br />"How steady be thy loading hand"<br />"How gently you lyse your cells"<br />"This chromatogram has such clear peaks...almost.." well never mind that one..!!!<br /><br />Insults On Eppendorfia...<br /><br />No saccharine without stupidity eh...<br /><br />"You are as skewed as a nanodrop reading on tiny quantities of DNA"<br />" I would put your P-value at 0.01"<br />" You are about as enchanting to listen to as a sonicator"<br />"For one, even your bugs ( read E.coli) smell better than you"<br />And the ultimate put-down....Read do not pursue this one..<br />" I would rather read papers/write my thesis/submit an abstract than go out with you"<br /><br />Songs that reverberate down in these depths...<br /><br />Lysing me softly<br />One last prep<br />Enter Bossman<br />Bugs on Parade<br />Smells like pure spirit<br /><br />And for the R&B in us<br />In da lab ( this one is really doing well!)<br />Broke forever ( Jay-Z nailed it here!)<br /><br />When it comes to movies, we have the coolest lil theater in town...Inflickogen has been singing profit all month long<br /><br />The Dark slide<br />Quantum of Sleep<br />High School Aerosol ( who doesn't like a good musical?)<br />What happens in P3..<br /><br />In addition , there is this video that is really doing the rounds.A fellow 'dorfian you-tubed it for me , it explains wonderfully the process of protein synthesis,for I can't believe that anything should trouble you more...watch it <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9dhO0iCLww">here </a><br /><br /><br />There....that de-mystifies our race I believe...hah..and you thought we were hard to untangle? ( accompanied by derisive shake of head!hmph!)<br /><br />PS...for my fellow Eppendorfians , news has it that Harry Potter is back from a conference and ready for a new semester,read all about it in 'Harry Potter and the disorder of the Plasmids'<br /><br /><br /><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-40078913718817593332009-09-10T09:38:00.000-07:002009-09-10T09:42:53.067-07:00The tube stayed open....So after another long hiatus from this..Im back!!! Only because I love spoofs so much, partly because I'm lazy to actually write my own songs, and of course heavily because I'm going to the CREED concert this weekend...I came up with this...<br /><br />May I never rest in peace for this...forgive me!<br /><br /><br />The tube was open<br /><br />When I just heard the news today<br />It seems my gel is going to change<br />I close my eyes ,begin to sway<br />The tears of rage stream down my face<br /><br />The tube stayed open<br />All day,all night<br />The abstract's a waste<br />Throw away everything<br />The tube stayed open<br />Stayed open....<br /><br />Well I don't know if I'm ready<br />To face my boss,the God that be<br />I'll take a deep breath,Ill slip him some wine<br />I shake my head,Haven't created mice.<br /><br />The tube stayed open<br />Oh that UV light<br />The abstract's a waste<br />Throw away everything.<br />The tube stayed open..<br />Now my promise has changed<br />I'll show you life<br />I'll show you mice reverting<br />The tube stayed open<br />The tube stayed open<br />I'll dream of mice reverting..oh yeah<br />The tube stayed open...wide open.<br /><br />If I had just one dream<br />Only one desire<br />I hope they have one for me<br />I hope he works real hard<br />Then I can rule his life<br />And this can drive him mad<br />And he can clone the world<br />New guy on rotation.<br /><br />The tube stayed open<br />All day,all night<br />Welcome to this place<br />Now I've seen everything,<br />The tube stayed open<br />Now I'm going insane<br />I'll sing for mice<br />I'll do anything<br />The tube stayed open<br />The tube stayed open<br />I can do anything..oh yeah<br />Back to lab at ten....at ten.<br /><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-85224609207964265472009-08-26T13:10:00.001-07:002009-08-26T13:39:48.420-07:00All I want for my Bday....I don't want a lot for my Birthday<br />There's just one thing I need<br />I don't care about the gifts<br />Making their way to me<br />I want you to laugh with me<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhblBO9pjrqLruQcp4bvbF0WOUb7L3W3n8aNf6BKled3htxbLUSZlKAfhhljT4vrYIGwqpHX4xykeVn02DKEqDocBqAkUyqQAY4R47Axbs6NHK4KPslyz-JtjhCdIC5R-cAsrmj/s1600-h/laughing+daddycrop.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 80px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhblBO9pjrqLruQcp4bvbF0WOUb7L3W3n8aNf6BKled3htxbLUSZlKAfhhljT4vrYIGwqpHX4xykeVn02DKEqDocBqAkUyqQAY4R47Axbs6NHK4KPslyz-JtjhCdIC5R-cAsrmj/s400/laughing+daddycrop.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374369868838737138" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />More than you could ever know<br />Give me away,make it true<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGjrTU_zJHnlDa13zzWTZgLIUehp5vi7nOv9r4nmXf529GvWdBSeHOuBwt6LPiqKyFu4MP3bE9xNQdfhDKmkmYLeEPc14CHA_dEp-_86jZqvnVBHxoNpYoKKIve7lYzQ5AGkK/s1600-h/kanyadaancrop.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 90px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGjrTU_zJHnlDa13zzWTZgLIUehp5vi7nOv9r4nmXf529GvWdBSeHOuBwt6LPiqKyFu4MP3bE9xNQdfhDKmkmYLeEPc14CHA_dEp-_86jZqvnVBHxoNpYoKKIve7lYzQ5AGkK/s400/kanyadaancrop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374370980169437154" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />All I want for my birthday is..<br /><br />You<br /><br />I don't want to party for my B'day<br />There's just one thing I need<br />Just another pick-me -up dance<br />Like when I was three<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzBiBDfFcDcLb6gdd8LQc3W-DaCMDnjuWVkXiv0cVhyphenhyphen0j8-a57xGE4w86OuuhfhDWCdUvxn1V3Y3mxSuHaPqnA6MD3NfI81OjEKXiUVAwOrgtCQizBKsxtnBZsdGu6iOfBPW2J/s1600-h/dancingcrop.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 110px; height: 73px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzBiBDfFcDcLb6gdd8LQc3W-DaCMDnjuWVkXiv0cVhyphenhyphen0j8-a57xGE4w86OuuhfhDWCdUvxn1V3Y3mxSuHaPqnA6MD3NfI81OjEKXiUVAwOrgtCQizBKsxtnBZsdGu6iOfBPW2J/s400/dancingcrop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374371523633906354" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I don't need a Guru for everyday,<br />I've got my very own<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwBZEQ5kCt9965m99JwCcqoUwzti6ClV1p7oG82EN99DomdOPxwrcv_lUUFEkuFZdNnqtWCTsir2s6c5I_-DQaZ-LSamKA4LaETKPxY2y9lff9cEnu-RtXMugArzM46TLtZsAg/s1600-h/brahmin+daddycrop.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 67px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwBZEQ5kCt9965m99JwCcqoUwzti6ClV1p7oG82EN99DomdOPxwrcv_lUUFEkuFZdNnqtWCTsir2s6c5I_-DQaZ-LSamKA4LaETKPxY2y9lff9cEnu-RtXMugArzM46TLtZsAg/s400/brahmin+daddycrop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374371847623830418" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Only you can make me happy<br />With a hat on my birthday<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinPbmfGgOWtf6P9c84WAtrkHYKAjEur1xvYl4Eeu3TwwSApZjYIId3BX4UX2sq-COxD-54VSE5rh9cBh-Ie8avMGGgUY2AJj22CcC5i6Vjqz7bKgFZ9QP0ZXTVw_ELxYya_F92/s1600-h/daddycrop.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 75px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinPbmfGgOWtf6P9c84WAtrkHYKAjEur1xvYl4Eeu3TwwSApZjYIId3BX4UX2sq-COxD-54VSE5rh9cBh-Ie8avMGGgUY2AJj22CcC5i6Vjqz7bKgFZ9QP0ZXTVw_ELxYya_F92/s400/daddycrop.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374372125273531042" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I just want you both together<br />More than you could ever know<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgRUlTt8SlIYyAVZFOEGul2ckdBm_cB-jL6bdUvHB-GPprXcsNcYq9GTg5CxfMmmtd1Ds-8KCRtHU4aTHjIVXzvT0rTKueJwB5zn9tPnFaVpeTXUPzG7sg1GMHFyX0f87juyfr/s1600-h/mom+n+dadcrop.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 149px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgRUlTt8SlIYyAVZFOEGul2ckdBm_cB-jL6bdUvHB-GPprXcsNcYq9GTg5CxfMmmtd1Ds-8KCRtHU4aTHjIVXzvT0rTKueJwB5zn9tPnFaVpeTXUPzG7sg1GMHFyX0f87juyfr/s400/mom+n+dadcrop.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374372423746778770" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Make it whole again<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp-D2Kz1nMg3QYC2ekbxMGQ2g8HoQcP1-6UF8Ab9DFlHHSgrd5u7vnAzWVIWFYmwDjughpJ3k9TQ13ShbSougKeM6p0cnL-b0nPFXberGRbJrPn3C7S-Nx7epmxnQiFnZEuiFY/s1600-h/vridhamcrop.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp-D2Kz1nMg3QYC2ekbxMGQ2g8HoQcP1-6UF8Ab9DFlHHSgrd5u7vnAzWVIWFYmwDjughpJ3k9TQ13ShbSougKeM6p0cnL-b0nPFXberGRbJrPn3C7S-Nx7epmxnQiFnZEuiFY/s400/vridhamcrop.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374372873023494498" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />All I want for my birthday is..<br /><br />You<br /><br />I wont ask for much this Birthday<br />I wont even ask you not to snore<br />I'm just gonna keep on prayin<br />Ur back for a 'lil bit more<br />I just want you here this night<br />Telling me its all alright<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHHHNosPHoHQfqM2a-iWARy39dZ7xgT9bbP4kwteqoJSqlg0kn14mQ6NDx81eCv1Y_wYmkTSL99YBh74NkSRm1sJNF3kdqOLpdDnQWmoxvInofcpt6s5MUsB_8s5n2zJMEnqwh/s1600-h/speechcrop.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 90px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHHHNosPHoHQfqM2a-iWARy39dZ7xgT9bbP4kwteqoJSqlg0kn14mQ6NDx81eCv1Y_wYmkTSL99YBh74NkSRm1sJNF3kdqOLpdDnQWmoxvInofcpt6s5MUsB_8s5n2zJMEnqwh/s400/speechcrop.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374373159820758290" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Saying there's nothing I can't do<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAbAJZlYa1EKkNgChpgDtEkb_-kWcezNOldByhMRpd3KEaZ-qWbXCHselLHuxVJ-pB5zNWNtClkIVOzb5kaz30q7onJVy_Il4tnbO6DYUIUUBnWArHS6jq9Muwykm_WVttqa5x/s1600-h/mehndi+daddycrop.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 190px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAbAJZlYa1EKkNgChpgDtEkb_-kWcezNOldByhMRpd3KEaZ-qWbXCHselLHuxVJ-pB5zNWNtClkIVOzb5kaz30q7onJVy_Il4tnbO6DYUIUUBnWArHS6jq9Muwykm_WVttqa5x/s400/mehndi+daddycrop.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374373760038335954" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />All I want for my birthday is you<br /><br />I don't want a lot for my B'day<br />This is all I'm begging for<br />I just want to see my daddy<br />Dancing outside my door.<br />Oh I just want you to lean on<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPc5yGcxhAbKDRVVjhiyin3y-Gw7Mnbvo4_HDY4e0pRyMtfgJb3OogiLO1aS_Bt1Tvw061-oYQqirXaXadJAqhIS6tMYOOOY8_Vo2Ml9RZZc2V-eKoHYTo3qdpR_FgtKzCRX_/s1600-h/lsk+daddycrop.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 172px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPc5yGcxhAbKDRVVjhiyin3y-Gw7Mnbvo4_HDY4e0pRyMtfgJb3OogiLO1aS_Bt1Tvw061-oYQqirXaXadJAqhIS6tMYOOOY8_Vo2Ml9RZZc2V-eKoHYTo3qdpR_FgtKzCRX_/s400/lsk+daddycrop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374374440949328338" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />More than you could ever know<br />Make my dream come true<br />All I want for my b'day is<br /><br />You.<br /><br />I miss you daddy...it doesn't feel the same without you.<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-35364853169518681012009-08-01T08:52:00.000-07:002009-08-01T08:56:50.725-07:00Cowardice...I'm such a coward<br />I couldn't take it anymore.<br />I'm such a coward,<br />I couldn't take pain no more.<br /><br />I tried to kill myself today<br />I wanted to end it all.<br /><br />I'm such a coward<br />I wanted to feel pain for you,<br />I'm such a coward<br />I wanted to bleed like you,<br />I'm such a coward<br />I wanted to suffer too.<br /><br />I'm such a coward,<br />I just couldn't do it.shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-54064605902325378412009-07-18T05:04:00.000-07:002009-07-18T05:07:02.669-07:00lost...I cry for those-<br /> Who never knew you.<br /> I cry for all that<br /> You never saw.<br /><br /> I cry for myself<br /> Who knew you so well.<br /><br /> I see you now,<br /> As I saw you that day-<br /> Cold,not breathing,unseeing-<br /> And so Loved.<br /><br /> So loved, So missed<br /> So dear.<br /> A snowflake,<br /> On the hottest day.<br /><br /> I see you now-<br /> Raising a toast in heaven.shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-17889120377599642822009-07-18T05:01:00.000-07:002009-07-18T05:04:24.637-07:00Forever ?On each day<br /> I miss you more<br /> On a hot day<br /> Your broad smile<br /> On a rainy one-<br /> An infectious laugh<br /> A cold day brought<br /> A grouchy grin.<br /><br /> With each passing hour,<br /> I miss you more<br /> I'm trying to stay still daddy<br /> But the world I'm in,<br /> It keeps taking me further away<br /><br /> I thought we were fighting together<br /> Why did you let go Daddy?<br /> Was it too painful to hold on?<br /> I wish I had known..<br /><br /> I might have let you go too-<br /> But now; I can't.shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-89210180704812271002009-06-19T00:54:00.000-07:002009-06-19T01:13:16.762-07:00Fading away...A voice breaks my reverie;<br /> One that I've heard before,<br /> Not startled,<br /> They grow louder , more calming.<br /><br /> I flip a page,<br /> Back to years ago-<br /> To a haunting memory, a smiling face,<br /> Etched forever in time.<br /><br /> I am so alone<br /> My thoughts echo unbearably<br /> In my loneliness I allow-<br /> An indulgent hallucination.<br /><br /> I dream I was there<br /> Part of forbidden conversation,<br /> Now I am in so deep -<br /> I can't get back.<br /><br /> Comfort so ethereal,<br /> Surrounded by ghosts of the past,<br /> An outstretched hand-<br /> All but tendrils of smoke.<br /><br /> A distinct memory;<br /> Begins to evanesce,<br /> My darkest desire,<br /> Hovers; just out reach.<br /><br /> An eyelid flutters<br /> A gaze cast out the window,<br /> A wisp of white<br /> Dazzles by....<br /><br /><br /> The ghosts come a - haunting<br /> I know you will let them stay.shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-24506070868834930392009-06-18T23:45:00.000-07:002009-06-18T23:51:10.311-07:00The day time stood stil.....It's the 19th of June....<br /><br /> 20th of June last year , daddy was diagnosed with cancer..<br /><br /> This year..he has been gone two months.<br /><br /> Maybe if I could have stopped time , held the day forever..I would never have lost him..<br /><br /> Never have had to know life without him..<br /><br />Does it matter now....<br /><br /> All that remains....Ash, cold ash...and to earth returned.shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20427577.post-60685576657943031812009-06-14T02:18:00.000-07:002009-06-14T02:37:22.989-07:00Jungle Law..A long muddy trail<br /> Leaves painted with dust<br /> Scorched earth; and today -<br /> Blessed with rain.<br /><br /> One prowling eye,<br /> A starving cub,<br /> One leaping Impala-<br /> A bloodied carcass ,a feast.<br /><br /> Mist shrouds the night<br /> The sun bakes the day<br /> Nothing here is constant<br /> Nothing but change.<br /><br /> A lone pugmark marks the soil,<br /> A single Leopard crouches low,<br /> One lone pachyderm arrives,<br /> Leaves, nothing for miles.<br /><br /> A fish eagle soars the sky,<br /> One beady eye fixed on food.<br /> A piercing wail-<br /> A bird calls from a ghost tree.<br /><br /> A skull decorates the grass.<br /> A crocodile aches for body warmth.<br /><br /> All who walk here,<br /> Walk alone.shilpahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07377283789380564953noreply@blogger.com4