Human resource is a module introduced in our course for bettering our personality and speech skills. Our teacher asked us to talk about people who inspire us the most. He also added that it cannot be a member of our family so that ruled out talking about mom. I spent all week thinking of what I should talk about and although I was totally blank at first, I ended up talking the most…to be more precise a continuous non-stop speech of 15 minutes, most of what came spontaneously. The following is a gist of what I spoke...
1. Age 4- my first dental appointment- scary dentist with light on forehead, weapons in hand- but a smile on his face. He befriended me, gained my trust so I let him pull my tooth out without hassle. He taught me that first impressions are never the best impressions.
2. Age8- Enid Blyton- her books inspired me to express myself through words and a story of hers carried a message that left an everlasting impression in me- when somebody says thank you, don’t tell them ‘you’re welcome’ and end the deal, instead, pass on the favour.
3. Age11-When I went up on stage to deliver a speech I was totally blanked out. I got off stage and started weeping when a man, a stranger sat beside me and told me that failures are the stepping stones to success and nobody stops when a hurdle stares at you in the face. So far I have never messed up a speech since then. Hoping it stays that way…
4. Age16- When I was gifted with a book by Dr.A.P.J.Abdul Kalam at a function…while he was autographing the book, I noticed that he used a really cheap pen to sign his name. I understood that if you really are great, you would never show yourself off…just like the mighty elephant, the strongest in the land but yet called the gentle giant!
There was a time when I gave up writing, but with everyone’s encouragement and support I resumed and my blogspot is a piece of my success.
I always wanted to help people through my writing but it is not certain how much a story or so little as words can touch a person’s heart and inspire them to view life with new eyes…I might not be able to do so and even if I do, I might not yield the expected results and so I found another solution. Why not use my blog to create space for my friends to express their thoughts and give vent to their frustrations? That would do both of us a world of good…
I concluded by saying-"So if you have something in mind, that the world needs to know, do tell me because I would surely put it in my blog!
Welcome
From when I was 8 years old I loved to put my thoughts on paper.. They say you should let your dreams sprout wings and fly.. I've found the wings right here in this blogspot.. If you like what i've posted or not liked it for a reason.. Leave a comment.. I would love to know whats on your mind..
Followers
LOST FRIEND
I still remember the day we met,
But now I surely regret,
For having known each other for so long,
There is no friendship we have that can prolong.
Lost is the friendship which we once cherished,
From all the eyes that envied it and prayed it would perish,
But now after such a mishap,
I don’t see a time when we can recoup.
In spite of difficulties and words that hurt my heart,
I was always there for you till we had to part,
But you my friend couldn’t help me in my ordeals,
For you had already left with your new pals!
So now I stand with no one by my side,
Yearning for the lost friendship that bade me goodbye,
For just another happy moment I dream,
Coz our next meeting is unforeseen.
DEAR DIVYA'S LOST FRIEND,
if u, by a long shot happen to read this, let me tell you that you are missing something this very moment!
regards...
i want to be the smile on your lips,
i want to be the sense on ur fingertips,
i want to be ur passion and drive,
i want to be the fire in your eye.
i want to be the air that you breathe,
i want to be your excitement everytime we meet.
i want to be your reason to be you,
i want to be your other one that adds up to be two!
im always missing something, something back in yesterday or something that tmro forgot to bring,
im missing a familiar sight, then i get it...im missing ur eyes…
im missing an eraser to vanish my fears,
a bell rings, im missing the sound ur voice in my ears...
missing a piece in a puzzle, oh my, im missing ur comforting nuzzle...
i feel im missing an important part, honey im missing ur connection to my heart!
im missing the sunset...im missing ur every breath...
im missing life, im missing colour;
drowning in strife, a shattered mirror...
im a thirsty flower missing her dew,
darling im here, but where are you?
a friend of mine asked to write a poem where a parent consoles her child...the toughest part was writing from the parent's perspective...
THE MEDICINE
She is my little girl,
Her born to me, a world of dreams unfurled.
Every time she came to me,
With a smile on her face,
A picture she drew,
Or a prize she won,
There could be no better joy for one!
One day as I watered my plants,
I heard a voice amidst the branch,
My little girl has scraped her knee
Tear soaked cheeks and puffed up eyes I could hardly see,
My baby was in pain and she came to me,
“Mamma make the pain go away”, she said
Helpless I took her in my hand.
I blew on her wounds and kissed her face,
and walked to the porch with careful pace.
Dear, I can’t make the pain go away,
I’m no god, I’m no healer,
I’ll make you feel better and I will help you recover.
Baby, pain comes; it hurts you and makes you cry,
Though we don’t deserve it, it comes, I don’t know why!
Smile through your troubles honey,
Smile through your pain,
Smile even though pain conquers you again and again.
When rainy days are done, the sun will come,
So will your time when heaven knows you’re ready,
I looked down at my baby to see that she was smiling already!
The sky is the limit they say! Ever gone out on a cloudless night to stare hard and deep at the night sky? Nobody knows the secrets it holds, nobody can see what lies underneath that darkness and nobody can hear the million stories they have to tell…but if you just look harder, hear clearer and feel better, you might just be able to hear them whisper their tale. Why do people prefer to detach from their surroundings and get lost in the beauty of the stars when they are troubled? Maybe because the stars themselves are an example of however small a part we play in our lives, we each are unique and carry our own twinkle. Our troubles seem so little, like they have drifted far away from us and never find their way back to us and sometimes the beauty of the night gives us hope to look forward at the horizon and wait for a new day. Why do people wish upon stars? Because stars to us are eternal, just like the love and hope that is always alive in our hearts. The moon is the most wonderful celestial object…so calm, so gentle, yet giving a mellow glow to every corner its light can reach. Anyone can spend ages looking at it…even the busiest of beings and the richest of men have stopped, aghast at the beauty of the moon. No wonder it brings a smile to a woman’s face when she is compared to the moon.
I came from the city and I was always under a roof- inside a car, within the four walls of my house or under a cloud of pollution. It is when I moved miles away from the city to a poorly maintained hostel housing sixty four girls under one roof, that I really missed my space. I had nothing I could call my own. Privacy was a word I was beginning to forget. On a hot summer night, when the humidity was at its peak, the power had to fail! Drenched in sweat and unable to breathe, the lot from our room moved outside. Wearily I seated myself on the stairs. Frustrated by the number of chattering mouths around me, I looked up for I knew that was the only place where I wouldn’t see people and boy am I glad for every previous moment that led to this one for what I saw left me utterly spellbound. High up in the sky, cloudless and black, I saw millions of stars looking down at me, twinkling so brightly, I replayed the rhyme I learnt as a child and understood why they were called diamonds in the sky! Far away from city smoke, this place made me witness something I never would have if I had stuck to the luxury the metropolitan offered. Sometimes you need times like this to understand what you’re missing in life, what Mother Nature made for us to enjoy and what treats our eyes yearn to feast upon.
A BIRTHDAY WISH-NINETEEN YEARS HENCE!
They told me birthdays were special,
A day meant only for me!
A day when you’re the luckiest one alive
When nothing can go wrong;
And you feel so whole and free!
So year after year, I wait for my special day
And try to make it right
Waiting to see what life has in store for me,
Yearning to make a brand new discovery!
Before my 19th, mamma told me,
-“This time the stars will align as on the day you were born to me”,
So I waited for my day once again…
Miles away from home, but still surrounded by the ones I love,
I could hear the stars repeating my story from above.
But at the end of my day as I sat reflecting
I realized I felt incomplete.
Puzzled I searched; my mind wandering light years at every step.
They say answers take long to find
But today on this special day I found mine
This wish may have reached you late as it took me till today to see,
That I’m no longer forlorn,
Because today is the day the other half of me was born!
You might never know how much you mean to someone because it’s impossible to measure how much of them you took with you before you left them.. But perhaps if you come back to them, you might just know.
They say walls have ears, but did you know they could speak as well?
After my 6th grade, I left my humble home in Trivandrum (renting it out temporarily) to the fast-paced life in Chennai-one of the fastest growing metros. Five years just flew past and I had to return home for 2 days to attend a family function. When I entered through the gates, repainted many times, there was this rush of familiarity, like embracing an old friend. I saw the platform beside the car park area. The day the cement was laid afresh, my dad and I wrote the date on it-30/9/2000...no matter how many times it was painted on, it was still visible. As I walked down the steps I recollected how I used to run up and down, playing, laughing as a child, my pictures being taken. The hibiscus plant waved me a Hi -"Do u remember me? You used to pick one flower from me every day." I took a walk around the place, the water tap beneath which my pet cats used to sun bathe, the moss gathered brick wall from where I used to pick giant red ants and examine them, the washing stone atop which I used to stand to wave to the neighbors beyond the wall. I confidently walked barefoot on the stones because I knew these grounds had made my feet strong. As I entered the house, I could hear the walls talking to me-"Welcome back". A sudden rush of memories.. "This is the spot where you used to swing with your nanny, this is where you used to play hide and seek, this used to be your study table, this is where your cradle used to be hung.. Do you remember?" I do! I do! I remember everything! Everything is still the same! I’ve come back home! I never knew I missed home so much, I was so caught up with running with the world..
It happens to all of us doesn't it? But the best part is, home is always where you left it, how you left it, its somewhere you can always come back to, to be yourself..
WHO SAYS YOU CAN'T GO HOME?
How is it that an animal can sense affection from a human? Does it see it in your eyes, or the way you touch it, or is it able to smell the scent of your care? That would have been so much easier to find out, if only animals could talk. But it makes one wonder.. Is this proof that humans evolved from animals, proof that we are all connected to each other in a circle?
Man and animal, especially dogs, have a very good wrap out. No wonder a dog is called man's best friend. Sometimes a pet is treated like the member of the family, giving it the liberty to be more of a man than an animal and very soon they begin to see the animal as a human; and what happens when the animal passes away? They mourn its death just like you would if u lost a family member.
Sometimes I think about my cat Lily for whose life I cried continuously for three days and so I came to know what it felt like to lose a pet I loved, or rather, a feline friend who always thought that wherever you went was the right place to go and whatever you fed her was the best food.
LILY CAME WHENEVER I CALLED HER, UNTIL ONE DAY SHE DIDN’T AND THAT’S WHEN I REALISED THAT SHE COULDN’T EVEN IF SHE WANTED TO.
A WALK CALLED LIFE
A healthy mind in a healthy body, with that thought at five I rose,
To walk to health and jog once or twice.
Little did I know as I stepped out; a journey I began….
An unveiling of a fine example of life itself.
We are in darkness,
A vision extending to gentle outlines of human life, whispers of light,
a touch to warn us of a rocky path ahead
The eternal stillness is gone,
Life awakens from amidst the branches,
Golden rays begin to fall, illuminating the wonder of the universe.
Familiar faces, and many unknown,
Afraid of questions, conscious of loneliness,
I walk, getting lost in the herd. Listening to stories of strangers:
Of their love miles apart,
Of momentary refuge and running away from truth,
Of impressions, prestige and positions,
Of work, family and children.
My life has just begun, a walk of life,
A walk of purpose, a walk to remember,
A walk down memory lane and up future avenue.
To a walker, to a jogger, to a runner, to a driver,
The signboards mean the same-
Go slow, U-turn, detour, stop.
No matter how far I walk,
At the stroke of six,
I am back where I started.
Travel miles, earn big,
But nirvana lies in familiar sounds,
A gentle reminder,
Earth is round and what goes around comes around.
Margaret was a gifted child. Her parents knew of this when she identified faces with superb accuracy. As she grew up to be a ten year old she could remember the people who had come to see her when she was just three or so.
The human face fascinated Marge to a great extent. She got to sketching and made wonderful images of her mom and dad, friends and even herself just as she sees it in the mirror every time before she leaves for school. Her favorite person was Mr. Jerry, her science teacher, who recognized her gift and put it to test. He was doing his PhD in forensics and she was of a great help to him recreating faces from skeletons. She looked up to him as her mentor.
On Marge’s thirteenth birthday, Mr. Jerry was an invitee. Her parents had decided to surprise her with his presence. Margaret was greatly pleased to have him there. He presented her a sketch book and paints. As she sat unwrapping, Mr. Jerry knelt down beside her and said “You know Margaret; they say that there are seven people in the world who look alike”. Marge turned to him in innocent surprise and exclaimed “Really? Are there really seven people in the world who look like me?”
“Why don’t you try and find out for yourself?”
These words uttered by her mentor rang in her ears and lingered on… it went from a thought to a question to a possibility and finally to a mission. Marge was determined to find the seven people who resembled her. This was not a game of some kind that fizzled out as she grew but became more and more of an obsession.
She found the first in her high school at the age of sixteen. The second was the paper boy who delivered papers to her grandmother in Oklahoma 206 miles from her home at Dallas. She found it hard to believe that a boy could resemble her but she had to trust her eyes when she saw it for herself. “If little Marge was a boy, she would look just like that”, said her granny.
When she turned twenty, she started giving advertisements in newspapers. There were many who responded but she was satisfied only with two responses. One was a young Spanish girl and another was an Anglo Indian. With the little money the University provided her for her education she couldn’t possibly think of meeting up with them although she longed to. But she made it a point that someday she would, so she maintained contact with them.
For a girl with an undying determination, she managed to find four look alikes. But the heat was still on, she wasn’t willing to stop in spite of all the work she had at the University. She wrote to journals, newspapers, local dailies and communicated through the internet desperately hunting for the remaining three.
She met Don Silverman in her undergraduate years. She thought she would be wasting his time committing to a relationship but he insisted otherwise. Marge and Don got along really well after that.
On a chilly autumn day they were seated in the park.
“Don?” She wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were transfixed on the falling leaves.
He turned to look at her.
Knowing this she asked, “This hunt of mine, does that bother you in any way?”
“Not at all”, was his prompt reply.
“Do you think its stupid don? Do you think its going nowhere? Do you think…?”
Her flow of questions was suddenly choked by tears.
“Shush! Whispered Don and wrapped her in a warm hug. After a long pause, “You know what Margie?”
“What?” she sniffed.
“I loved you as and when I laid my eyes on you and then when I heard about this search of yours, I loved you more, and girl with each look alike you find; I get to see another you, those grey eyes, those chestnut brown locks, that adorable nose and that heart melting smile. I love this crazy thing you do and I’m crazy about you. You hear me angel?”
“Loud and clear”, Marge smiled…those tears just disappeared into thin air.
Exactly two years later, Margaret found her fifth when she went jogging with Don. The woman just happened to walk past. Out of the five she found, this was only the third she got to speak to. At the end of the day Don could hear her say to herself, “So miracles do happen”.
A week before she left University, she got a mail sent by a ninety year old woman from England claiming to be her look alike. She printed the address and photograph, marked it as ‘6th’ and put it into her bag.
Margaret finished her education, successfully completed a well appreciated project, earned plenty and married Don.
“So where do you want us to go for our honeymoon?” Don asked.
“I don’t know, you tell me”.
“How about we go to India, Spain and England?”
“Three countries?”
“Yes! A triple treat and a chance to meet the rest of your look alikes… and who knows maybe even find the seventh”.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea”.
The Spanish girl named Enya Rodriguez was very excited to see her. She was a bit tanned than her, had lovely black hair and a uni-brow. Marge fixed it for her and they took photos together.
The Anglo-Indian woman was in her early forties. Jennifer David was a nun in the Catholic Church. “God brought you to me and he will guide you on your quest. I feel blessed to have met you. Good luck Margaret Silverman”, she said and drew the cross on her forehead.
Margaret was glad she met these two but she was looking forward to meeting Julianne, the 90 year old lady. By the time they reached the right place in England they were informed that she had passed away only a week back. Marge was crestfallen. “If only I had come here first…”
Her daughter told them “Although you never mentioned about coming to meet her, she had a feeling that you would. In case she dint get to see you, she asked me to give you this note.”
Marge received it and read it, her eyes following each word.
It read-
“It is not everyday we come across someone who looks exactly like you. When I was young, our family moved to England. We lost our pictures when a few of our luggage was thrown overboard to stabilize the boat. As I grew older I was beginning to forget my past until that is, when I saw your post on the web. You may doubt if I’m your look-alike because how I am now, you may be nothing like it, but believe me child, when I saw your face on that webpage, I felt I was looking at myself again, seventy years younger, thank you for being born, thank you for coming looking for me and don’t stop till you have found all seven of us.”
Margaret pulled out the folded printed picture of Julianne and looked at it. She asked her daughter if she had another picture. She led Don and Marge to the hallway where was hung a picture of Julianne in her youth. Marge couldn’t believe her eyes and Don’s mouth fell open. The resemblance was one hundred percent. The human eye cannot spot a difference. The same grey eyes, the nose, the chestnut brown curls and that smile. That day was one day in her life Marge knew she would never forget.
Earlier with Mr. Jerry and now with Julianne words etched in her mind, she was really hell-bent on finding the seventh.
With Don by her side and the media’s support now, her search became well-known and everyone began looking for her seventh and final look alike.
A year went by and Margaret was pregnant with her first baby. Till the doctor rang her up and asked her to give it a rest she did not. Even at home she would search for hours on the internet.
“Honey! Don’t stress yourself out; it’s not good for the baby, said Don.
Realizing what she does could affect the growing baby; Marge stopped thinking about her and decided to drop the search once and for all. Although it was with a heavy heart she decided that it was for the best.
“Maybe I can pick it up where I left it much later”, she said hopefully.
Months passed by, the labor pains came. Don was a gem who helped her and was there at her every beck and call. The delivery was smooth and successful. Margaret gave birth to a healthy baby girl. When the nurse handed the baby to the happy couple, the little angel opened her eyes once to look at her life-givers, revealing its lovely grayness.
“Sweetheart?”
“Yes Don?”
“I think we found your seventh look alike”.
“I think we have.”
“Congratulations. What should we name her?”
“Julianne”
Bon Jovi sang-“When you want to give up and your heart’s about to break
Remember that you’re perfect; God makes no mistakes”
WHEN YOU ARE JUST ABOUT TO GIVE UP ON SOMETHING…JUST TAKE A MOMENT AND THINK OF WHY YOU HELD ON FOR SO LONG…….
STORY BY S.NIVEDYA
LIGHT AFTER DARK
By S.Nivedya
Willy Stuart was the best video jockey in town. His speech was crisp, every word he spoke carried humor and he made his fans feel so good. The start of his career was rocky and he faced hard times. “No one wants a short black guy on the show.”
Its when Henry Jackson, the manager of ‘Talk Me Into a Song’ saw him making pedestrians laugh their heads out that he considered taking him into the show. Even after he was hired he suffered mockery and neglect from his co-workers. But Willy Stuart was focused on his work.
‘Talk Me Into a Song’ started out as a radio show which later earned its own place in a TV channel. Willy Stuart was the best RJ then and allured thousands with his voice. A man who never came out into the limelight, known to America as just a voice, his fans were dying to see how he looked. Now was their chance.
Henry Jackson had Willy to thank for that but he simply responded saying-“Nothing to it Jack, it is what I love to do and it’s what I do best”. Willy’s first few years at TMIS were tough. The other RJ’s used to tease him and pick on him for being short and black. He used to feel dejected but later he got used to it. When TMIS went on screen for the first time, his fans were disappointed because Willy Stuart’s crispy grave voice didn’t belong to a muscular, handsome, tall white body. His first caller’s response was “Oh! Willy, is that how you look?”, Willy’s constant smile faded. He walked up close to the camera, brought out that smile again and replied, “Yes honey! And I am loving every moment of it”. To another dejected caller he asked, “Why do you wear black for formal occasions?” She replied, “It makes me look sophisticated, calm and collected”. To this he exclaimed, “You wear black dear, but I am black!”
Though Willy handled things well before the camera, he felt bad, he didn’t feel himself, and he wished he could go back to being just the voice that America was fond of. Henry Jackson was very understanding and asked him to keep up the good work. “Its been years since the conflict between the whites and blacks took place but the discrimination still lives on. Why do people have to be so thoughtless? Its not that we chose to be black, we just are. But we’re humans too, we have our feelings and rights and place in this world.”
Henry placed his hand on Willy’s shoulder. Seeing the contrast of Henry’s white arm on his dark shoulder only made him feel worse. “Look Willy! I don’t care what size shirt you wear or what color you are. All I know is that you have talent that others failed to see in you. That’s why you are here. Others saw what you look like, I saw what you got and someday I am sure someone else will too. I suppose that’s when your biggest question will be answered…whatever it is”.
“Mommy! Why are you white and why am I black?”
“It’s because I married your father whom you look a lot like”.
“But why aren’t both of you the same color?”
“Because we didn’t care how we looked. All that mattered was that we had love in our hearts for each other and you”
“Then why are we living separately? Why do I have a tutor at home?”
“That is because nobody likes to see a white with a black.”
“Mommy”
“Yes dear?”
“Will I always be black and will you always be white?”
“Yes honey! Does that bother you?”
“Yes, because I can never look like you”.
“That’s not true at all”. Young Willy’s mother got up and turned out the lights. She sat beside him and held his hand, “When you turn out the lights, you can’t see I’m white and I can’t see you’re black. We are one with the darkness. You and I are just the same, we will always look the same when you close your eyes.
Willy Stuart was back on the show the very next day with his familiar smile, but this time, he had absolutely no regrets.
‘Once in a lifetime we are touched by an angel who turn our lives around not by granting a wish or holding our hand when we cross a busy street, but by showing us the light in the horizon when we see only the night'.
WE WANDER ‘ROUND IN THE DARKNESS BUT EVERY NOW AND THEN, A LITTLE LIGHT SHINES THROUGH!
A TRIBUTE
Secure within a cocoon
Safe and unharmed
You sheltered me from cold.
Cozy in a shell, in trouble-free deep waters
I was the pearl within your oyster.
Slowly you showed me the blazing fire,
But never let me feel its heat.
But how long do I hold a rose without bleeding from its thorns?
Now as the curtain rises,
You have to let me go,
Even thought it’s hard to say goodbye,
Only when I disappear from the edge you can see,
That you gave your angel wings to fly.
I dedicate this poem to my mother
as a child i understood that life teaches you many lessons that makes you stronger along the way and i loved to write about it...so along with expressing my thoughts as poems, some of them manifested as stories...i wanted people to feel what i felt, i wanted them to see the beautiful world through my eyes...the little joys that life had to offer. There are a lot of things i wish to share with you but because i moved thrice till date, i lost a lot of my scripts during the shift. What i will be posting are what i have luckily retrieved and what i wrote in the recent past....
Do let me know what you feel about them and how i can improve in my expression! Thank you once again for your support!
...After i discovered this wonderful gift and the joy rhyming words gave me i kept writing poems, it became a kind of mania...within the year i wrote poems about my mother, father, grandmother, brother, friends, my school teacher, the subjects i study, the games i play and also my principal! i also took the theme of the poems i learnt in school and wrote ones of my own.
I learned a poem called-A BIRD CAME DOWN THE WALK
I wrote one called-A FROG CAME DOWN THE WALK
Another one was called-THERE ISN'T TIME
I wrote-THERE IS TIME!
Crazy? Creative? Jobless? or totally wacky? You figure it out my friend!
There was a moth on my pillow
It came by the window
It went up the wall
And came back and sat on the ball
I like to call it funny
because it played with my little bunny.
hmm these words just came out once when i actually saw a moth on my pillow and guess what? it rhymed. so i wrote i down and so there it was...my first poem! And then there was no stopping me!
books were a world of their own...i didnt know that they could take you to a whole new place...all you had to do was picture it. So everytime i read a book i didnt see words on a paper, it was a live picture running in my head...
in the beginning i loved the stories i read and later i was amazed at how the author's mind worked and what he/she did to keep us turning the page...i wanted to do the same...i wanted to grab attention, draw in a crowd...and i wanted to write to do that...but i didnt know how to or where to start...
year 1, year 2 and year 3 were but a blur although i remember a lot of people came into my life at a very young age starting with cousins, relatives and neighbours and a very special person-my brother....mom tells me that he loved carrying me around...and she had photographs to show for proof...too bad i wasn't old enough then to be his good companion like all siblings turn out to be...well there was too much of an age gap..but there was nothing i could do about it...i would always be his 'baby sister' no matter how old i am.
i spent most of my childhood alone...dad at work, mom at work, brother in another state studying...maybe thats why i had a lot of time to myself, drifting away in thoughts, imagining myself in a 'terebethia' of my own with people whose company i enjoyed...thats when i began writing poems and short stories and began reading a lot...those were the days...life was good!!!
11 july 1990
it was just another sunny day...
they say that every 3 seconds 2 babies are born in this world...if this remains constant then why is july 11 World Population Day? Who knows? Maybe they just picked a date to create awareness about the rapidly rising population worldwide.....
anyway, on this day at around half past eleven god made a quick decision and bam! i was born to this world....healthy, wailing and very pink.....
sometimes i wish i could remember how it was....my arrival to this world...just so that i can write about it....
this will not be a daily post as i dont have regular access to the net and because i may not get something to say everyday....this could be a simple or exxaggerated story, life seen through the eyes of a growing child or just another blog post......im saying this because at this point of time neither you nor i know how this blog is going to come along! so wish me luck and here goes!!!!!!!!!!!