<?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-11767578</id><updated>2012-02-08T05:24:17.717+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Life on a polaroid</title><subtitle type='html'>"It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing. And there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this bag was just... dancing with me. Like a little kid begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes. That's the day I realized that there was this entire life behind things and this incredibly benevolent force that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid." - American Beauty</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Rathish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://static.flickr.com/47/109152875_3d97e53157_m.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767578.post-111388233165923178</id><published>2005-04-19T09:10:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-04-19T09:15:31.660+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Indian Middle class</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Brand new Skoda; Flashing vermillion on the window; Officious priest with the plate of gold and a golden tooth; The proud owner of the car and a paunch; obstructed traffic; curious audience; 1000 rupees pooja charges; 19% VAT; 100 rupees tip and a squabble for 25 rupees more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11767578-111388233165923178?l=last-leaf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/feeds/111388233165923178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11767578&amp;postID=111388233165923178' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111388233165923178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111388233165923178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/2005/04/indian-middle-class.html' title='Indian Middle class'/><author><name>Rathish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://static.flickr.com/47/109152875_3d97e53157_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767578.post-111215478999781495</id><published>2005-03-30T09:17:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-03-30T09:40:06.650+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Stuck in a moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As he was walking through the busy alley past the array of windows, slices of life were spit through the open shutters. And for that split second, he was a part of their household chore - a witness to a fight, an audience to a showdown, and an integral part of a million dollar moment - but like a house fly caught in the favorite family photograph, an inconsequential yet integral pixel in the polaroid that is forever stuck in the frame but will never be noticed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11767578-111215478999781495?l=last-leaf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/feeds/111215478999781495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11767578&amp;postID=111215478999781495' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111215478999781495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111215478999781495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/2005/03/stuck-in-moment.html' title='Stuck in a moment'/><author><name>Rathish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://static.flickr.com/47/109152875_3d97e53157_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767578.post-111215435644700896</id><published>2005-03-30T09:12:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-03-30T09:25:30.556+05:30</updated><title type='text'>First touch</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Just as he was showering, she tiptoed into his room, picked one of her favorite shirts and wrapped herself in the mild scent of his sweat. Just when a torrent of water touched him and ran helter-skelter, she imagined the touch of the fabric on his bare skin as she hugged herself with the two lifeless hands of the shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11767578-111215435644700896?l=last-leaf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/feeds/111215435644700896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11767578&amp;postID=111215435644700896' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111215435644700896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111215435644700896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/2005/03/first-touch.html' title='First touch'/><author><name>Rathish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://static.flickr.com/47/109152875_3d97e53157_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767578.post-111207861385852048</id><published>2005-03-29T12:12:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-03-29T12:13:33.860+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Slow death</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The crimson end of the cigarette burnt like the setting sun in the dark sky beyond the window as she smiled at him and exhaled a puff - the trail of smoke making a face at him and disappearing into the world beyond with a share of her soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11767578-111207861385852048?l=last-leaf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/feeds/111207861385852048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11767578&amp;postID=111207861385852048' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111207861385852048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111207861385852048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/2005/03/slow-death.html' title='Slow death'/><author><name>Rathish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://static.flickr.com/47/109152875_3d97e53157_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767578.post-111207845019306202</id><published>2005-03-28T12:22:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-03-30T09:11:45.186+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Good bye</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;He shook her hands for the last time, and in an instant a thin film of sweat between their palms was all that connected the two of them. He couldn't look into her eyes; he turned around and got into his car. He could spot her silhouette in his rearview mirror as she stood before her burning headlights. As the skies wept, the winds howled and the dead leaves murmured in dissent as the tyres zoomed past them, he stared at her image in his rearview mirror, like a photograph traveling the journey of time, growing hazy and distant with every minute till she was a ghost of a shadow the image left on the mirror, a distant memory that time's left in his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11767578-111207845019306202?l=last-leaf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/feeds/111207845019306202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11767578&amp;postID=111207845019306202' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111207845019306202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111207845019306202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/2005/03/good-bye.html' title='Good bye'/><author><name>Rathish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://static.flickr.com/47/109152875_3d97e53157_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767578.post-111207856705958233</id><published>2005-03-28T12:12:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2005-03-30T09:11:59.403+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Adventure</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She clung onto him tightly as the cold wind blew on her face. And as soon as the signal turned green, he cut the wind and soared on the road. The lamps on the side walk soon turned into a trail of lights, buildings beyond the platform merging into one another as her eyes started watering and the whole vision of what's ahead was blurred. As they tore away from the fabric of fellow travelers into a road not taken too often, a veil of tears and sweat fell on her face. She clung to his shirt, kissed him on his back, half-scared, half-excited dimly aware that she was beyond the point of no return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11767578-111207856705958233?l=last-leaf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/feeds/111207856705958233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11767578&amp;postID=111207856705958233' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111207856705958233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111207856705958233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/2005/03/adventure.html' title='Adventure'/><author><name>Rathish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://static.flickr.com/47/109152875_3d97e53157_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11767578.post-111207853859292177</id><published>2005-03-28T12:12:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2005-03-30T09:11:24.846+05:30</updated><title type='text'>kiss</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She closed her eyes as he cupped her cheeks and drew his face close to hers. He breathed into her lips and the warmth left them quivering as they parted a little. Just as the noses touched each other, their lashes locked and kissed eachother with a passion that lovers only know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11767578-111207853859292177?l=last-leaf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/feeds/111207853859292177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11767578&amp;postID=111207853859292177' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111207853859292177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11767578/posts/default/111207853859292177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://last-leaf.blogspot.com/2005/03/kiss.html' title='kiss'/><author><name>Rathish</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://static.flickr.com/47/109152875_3d97e53157_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
