its a kinda feeling which remains with you 4 long !!!!!

its got be this way -- Everyone remembers their first. It is one of those things in life that remain with you, no matter what else the years ahead bring to you. And yes, you will have more, in most cases, many more, of much better quality, and ones that will last much longer. There will be of course the ones that were mistakes, (and be honest here, we all make them, only, admission is sometimes hard to handle) but even the ones that were mistakes, will remain tucked deep away in the recesses of your mind, to be over shadowed by, the first.

It is sweet, and special, it filled you with a warmth and a pride that you had never felt before and had only had visions of, (or for most of us, read about in books or dime store magazines), that probably makes most other things pale in comparison. You walk around for days after (sometimes weeks if you are the vain, bragging type) and you seem to have this, glow, this special aura about you, where you don't even have to say a word, people just seem to know. You feel like everyone is talking about you, and sense that they are actually whispering about you behind your back, and of course this causes the ego level to rise even higher. You seem to have a new strut, a certain, a lilt, that you never noticed before but now have become part of this new and better person that, after only one day you have become.

After having dreamed of this special moment for so long laying in bed on those cold lonely nights, staring at the ceiling, and seeing it happen in your mind. They know, you are not sure how, but they know, you constantly are checking to see if by chance there is any tell tale evidence, but, nothing you can see, seems to give it away. You justify in your mind that having waited so long, and suffering through the frustration of being so close so many times, that you deserve, this newfound peer admiration, and you bask in it, revel in the new you that it has created.

I know I will always remember my first, it holds a special deep-rooted, hidden spot in my heart, and I hope it always will. Ahh yes the first, she was, precious, a deadly combination of good looks, sex appeal and just the right amount of shine to catch the eye of any other poor observer that had not had the fortune of finding out this great life treasure that you had. It is the ritual passing into manhood, no longer were you a kid, now you were a man, and everyone knew it.
Now I must tell you, that my first was in 2003, and as I was born in 1983, this may seem to most of you along time to wait for the first. (And trust me, it is a lot longer when you are the one waiting) But she was certainly worth the wait I must tell you. Looking back over the years at the cost of the first, (not in dollars, but the mental and physical strain attached for those few simple moments of pleasure, that unknowing to you would last a lifetime and makes the cost seem miniscule in reality) it is very easy now to justify that cost. However at the time it seems to be extreme.

There are few things in life that come close to offering the same pleasure to the average male, and certainly, nothing that can equal the pride and bragging rights attached to it. For those last years, every time a new unsuspecting prospect walks in the door, or when the beer starts to flow freely on a Friday night when the guys get together, the subject will certainly come up, and that old feeling of pride returns, (if even for a few minutes) and that old feeling of pride and that certain glow, returns to you again and the world feels so much warmer.

You brag about her, extol her virtues, profess time after time your undying devotion to her, promise to never forget her and the pleasure she gives to you, and unlike other people she has been with, you promise not to abandon her and leave her alone, to wait for the next male to walk by and take a shine to her.

As day after day passes and your attachment grows stronger your dependence on her becomes a power that you never knew existed, she take over your thoughts. Your mind during the day tends to drift to thoughts of her, the way she feels, better still the way she makes you feel, drift in and out of your mind and the daily seemingly mundane chores are only a necessity to go through so you can be with her when you are done. You rush out at the end of your day, knowing she is waiting for you for your touch that will let her know you are there for her.
Now, is there a guy out there that can tell me these feelings are not ones that you have or have had before? And if you look deep inside they are still hidden there, hidden perhaps, but there nonetheless. And on those quiet nights when it is cold outside, and you are sitting listening to your favorite music on the stereo, a glass of good wine in your hands, lights turned down low, tell me your thoughts don't from time to time drift back to that magic moment, and relive that time your mind, and a small imperceptible smile comes to your face, and that once thought to be forgotten glow returns.

You remember how warm and graceful she was, how she had a way of transferring that warmth to you every time you touched her. You remember, no matter how bad your day was, and you walked out and she was there waiting for you how all of the troubles seemed to fade away and all you wanted to do was be with her in the safety of her embrace.

Of course anyone can tell, I was referring to that age-old passage into manhood,

MY FIRST CAR.

wellllllll all the dudes n dudettes who read this blog hope this applies to u all as well ...... !!!

Why France has burnt !!

Why France has burnt !!
November 09, 2005

I love Paris in the springtime
I love Paris in the fall
I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles
I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles

Cole Porter's standard, sung by everyone from Frank Sinatra to Ella Fitzgerald, perhaps symbolises the kind of romanticism the world associates with France, and its capital. You normally think of Riviera luxuries, easy working hours, wine, music, literature, art -- the finer things in life -- when you think of France.

But now, with arson, rioting and killing sweeping the nation for 12 consecutive days, the country that gave birth to the lofty ideals of humanism -- Liberty, Equality, Fraternity -- is facing questions it has perhaps never faced since the Bastille fell, 216 years ago, and the French Revolution marked an important step in human evolution.

If bits and pieces have left you craving for the full course on why Paris is burning, read on:

How did the riots begin?
On October 27, two young men -- 15-year-old Bouna Traore and 17-year-old Zyed Benna -- were electrocuted at a power station while fleeing from the police. A third teenager was injured. The incident provided the spark to the tinderbox of loathing and anti-government feelings in the suburban ghettos of Paris.

How can just one incident spark off so much hatred?
The situation was worsened by a remark of French Interior Minister Nicolas Sarkozy, who called the rioters 'scum'. In fact, one rioter told The Guardian, 'Les keufs, man, the cops. They're Sarkozy's and Sarkozy must go, he has to shut his mouth, say sorry or just f**k off. He shows no respect. He calls us animals, he says he'll clean the cités with a power hose. He's made it worse, man. Every car that goes up, that's one more message for him.'

Why have the police not been able to control the violence?
Because it has been in spurts, sort of like guerrilla warfare. The rioters gather at night, set government establishments, shops, cars, trash cans -- anything and everything -- afire and scoot. Anyone who tries to douse the fires is attacked. One man has been killed and an elederly woman was set on fire.

Why such deep-rooted hatred?
Most analysts feel it is because France as a country has failed to integrate the very ideals it gave to the world -- Liberty, Equality and Fraternity -- into its own social fabric.

After the Second World War, France went through what the French call 'les trentes glorieuses' (the 30 golden years). During this time of economic boom, scores of workers were recruited from North Africa -- especially former French colonies like Algeria -- for menial jobs. They fed the engines of the First World country, but themselves lived in Third World conditions -- in slums, in ghettos.
The second generation of these North Africans, mostly Muslims, now are a significant part of the French population, but their condition has remained the same. They have no jobs, no future, no feeling of being one with the majority of a country that goes on mass vacation every summer. These beurs -- French slang for Arabs, which encompasses French Africans -- are the usual suspects for every crime. They are the dope peddlers, they are the pimps, they are the ones rounded up all the time.

France has no State affirmative action like India or the United States do. In other words, there is no reservation for ethnic minorities. And the on-paper 'everyone is equally French' philosophy of integration has not worked in practice. Mainstream France remains deeply distrusting of the other France -- of the migrants, who face racial discrimination in every walk of life. And the migrants are now hitting back the only way they can -- with blind, mindless anger.

Are the French authorities aware of the problem?
Most analysts, and the rioters themselves, believe the politicans are aware, and yet have done nothing to change things. Ironically The interior minister is one politician who has in the past admitted to the problem of the migrants and advocated affirmative action. Sarkozy will in all likelihood run for President in about two years time. His political opponent, Prime Minister Dominique de Villepin, too has now admitted racial and religious divides are a reality in the country.

What has the French government done?
French President Jacques Chirac has declared a state of emergency. The last time such a measure was declared was during France's war in Algeria in 1955.

France aflame: A brief history of unrest
October 25: French Interior Minister Nicolas Sarkozy is pelted with stones and bottles at Argenteuil, a Paris suburb. Sarkozy vows to clean criminal infested neighbourhoods 'with a power hose'. He calls mischief-makers 'gangrene' and 'rabble'.

October 27: Zyed Benna, 15, and Bouna Traore, 17, are electrocuted in Clichy-sous-Bois, a Paris suburb, while hiding from the police. The cops deny, but the news triggers riots. Fifteen vehicles are torched.

October 29: Silent march in memory of Zyed and Bouna is held in Clichy-sous-Bois. Arson continues.

October 30: A tear gas grenade explodes in a Clichy-sous-Bois mosque, fuelling more anger. Sarkozy vows 'zero tolerance' of rioting.

November 1: French Prime Minister Dominique de Villepin meets Zyed and Bouna's families, promises probe. Rioting spreads to more regions in Paris.

November 2: Rioters attack a police station at Aulnay-sous-Bois. Police are fired upon.

November 3: Violence spreads beyond Paris.

November 6: President Jacques Chirac convenes emergency meeting, vows to restore order. Riots escalate, 1,500 vehicles are torched, two policemen are seriously injured.

November 7: A 61-year-old man, Jean-Jacques Le Chenadec, dies after being attacked by rioters.

November 8: Chirac declares state of emergency.

why does this happen ??

i was getting restless today sitting in dis lovely chair of mine before the familiar green blue screens of Mainframes. sad tht i cant do nythng abt it !!

its been a while since i heard her voice.(which i used to hear day-in and day-out til a year back!)
i thought long and hard n realised tht SHE had nothin to do wid me in her life nymore! i hated the fact from the bottom of my heart, sad i cant do ny thng abt it !! may b ... may b i thought things wud b different .. different in the sense tht atleast she wud not cut-me-out of her life as she did;

may b i thought i was expecting too much from her and decided to call her up (it was 2 in da noon). i smiled to myself ki ... its u who's missing her terribly; she's happy wid the way her life's going, she doesnt need u nymore .

my fingers moved rapidly over the phone n in next 5 sec her fone was ringing !! i cud see her infront of me den! she lifted up the fone...
i said "hey hi bebo ... !";
wat followed stunned me. (its been happenin time and again i thought) ..... moments of silence followed n she said "hi.. bippi". i cud seriously feel the indifference in her voice.

i gathered myself in a moment n said "watz up?" .. she replied "hmm i'm havin my lunch!"

i replied by saying - "shud i call u back!" ..instantly she said "yes" ....

i said "bye" n put down the receiver!

the happiness wid wich she used to lift my call, the way she used to say "Bipppiiiiii !" .... gosh .... i miss her terribly.

i lean back upon my chair n look thru the dumb machine infront of me. i donno waht i was looking thru n wat i was seeing(ppl around me supposedly think i've some logic 4 a code) ... suddenly i hear the voice of my PM - "phani..... chalo u need to take a session on Dialer! u also need to attend a meeting !!" .... i rise saying "FUCK U " i remember wat i intend to do !!
but the thoughts abt my bebo will never slip out of my mind even 4 a second !!

YOU R SOMEONE I'LL NEVER FORGET PALLAVI !!!

I still remember it as if it were yesterday. The day I ended the life of my best friend. The sound of her voice begging me to slow down will haunt me till the day I die but after what I did, I can truly say that I deserve that and more. I'll never forgive myself.
-Flashback-
"Arpit, slow down, we're going too fast!"
"It's all right Pallavi, I can handle it. You know I would never do anything to hurt you."
"Arpit, please stop. I'm scared. " She cried.
"I won't let anything happen to you."
-End of flashback-
But I did hurt her. I was drunk and didn't notice how fast I was going. A kid, that's all I was. A sixteen-year old boy who thought he could handle anything. I used to be so happy. I had the perfect life and now I get to cry myself to sleep thinking about how I hurt the only girl I ever loved and will ever love.
One year earlier
"Come on Pallavi, no one cares about what you wear."
"Speak for yourself! What about this shirt Arpit?"
"It's fine, now can we go?"
"I'll be there in a minute."
"Girls." Arpit mumbled rolling his eyes.
"I heard that!" Pallavi said from her bathroom.
To her I was just like a brother. It was the same for me until three years ago. I don't know what happened to me. One second she was like my sister, the next I had fallen in love with her. Every one knows how I feel except for Pallavi. Now, she's the love of my life, the only one for me but of course I haven't told her yet. I will someday but not right now. When we're older and she's ready to hear it, I'll tell her.
We were finally on our way to the party. We had the music blasting and we were talking, laughing and singing like we always did. I had finally convinced her parents to let me take her. I promised to take care of her. They knew I would die for her if it came to that and she would do the same for me. We've been friends since the day we were born. Same day, same hospital and two hours apart, me being the oldest. Our parents had been old friends from high school. The four of them had been inseparable just like Pallavi and I. As I parked my car a few houses away from the party, Pallavi started getting a little nervous seeing as she had never been to a party like this before. So I took her hand and gently pulled her to the door.
Inside, we met some friends and decided to dance when Tarun, a guy from our school, offered me a beer. Pallavi told me not to but I told her that I would only have one. So she let me. The only problem was that one turned into two and two turned into three. We were still dancing by then, I started to get dizzy and Pallavi noticed.
"Arpit come sit down a bit, I think you've had enough to drink." she said removing the bottle of beer from my hand and replacing it with a bottle of water instead. I never did have a high tolerance for alcohol. Feeling a little queasy, I laid my head on Pallavi's shoulder since she had seated herself next to me. Soon enough I fell asleep. About a half-hour later, I woke up still with my head on Pallavi's shoulder. When I stood up to go back to the dance floor, my head felt as if someone had hit it with a baseball bat a few times but I told Pallavi I was fine because I didn't want to worry her.
When Pallavi to go to the washroom, I decided to have another beer. That was a big mistake. When she got back and saw that I could barely stand on my own two feet, she knew right away what I had done.
"Arpit! Don't tell me you had another drink!" I had never seen her so mad at me before.
"Okay then, I won't." I replied.
"Don't you get smart with me!"
"Jeez, now you sound like my mother."
"I'm going to go call Baba so that he can pick us up."
"Don't bother your brother. I'll be fine."
With that I headed out the door and to my car. After managing to open the door, I got in and rested my head on the steering wheel when Pallavi banged on the window.
"What the hell did you do that for!?"
"Arpit open this door right now. You know you can't drive like this."
"I'll be fine Pallavi." I insisted.
"Then I'm coming with you. There's no way you're going alone." She said as she got into the car. She tried to grab the car keys but the second her door had closed I drove off. I started off at 100 km per hour and quickly reached 140.
"Arpit, pull over and we'll call my brother. You can come get your car tomorrow."
"It's OK. I'm fine."
"Arpit, slow down we're going too fast."
"No we're not."
"What do you mean! You're doing 140!" She shouted.
"It's all right Pallavi, I can handle it. You know I would never do anything to hurt you."
"Arpit, please stop, I'm scared." She started crying.
"I promise I won't let anything happen to you."
"Arpit! WATCH-"
I turned my attention to the road when I saw another car slam into mine. I threw myself on Pallavi but her head hit and smashed the window of her door.
I woke up a few hours later in the hospital with a few scrapes, scratches and bruises.
"Pallavi!" I yelled.
A nurse came running in.
"Where's Pallavi!? Tell me!" I yelled louder.
"Calm down young man" The nurse said as she attempted to take my pulse.
"No! I want to see her!" I insisted, getting out of bed.
The nurse desperately tried to push me back into bed but I was stronger then her so she gave up and told me where I would find Pallavi. With my whole body aching, I made my way to her room. When I entered the room, I saw her lying in bed with machines plugged all around her. It was as if someone had just stabbed me in the heart. Then I saw her parents by her side, crying. They looked up and saw me.
"I'm sorry, " I said crying " I... I..." I couldn't speak.
Her mother ran over to me and instead of hitting me or yelling at me like I expected her to, she took me in her arms and held me tight. Her father did the same. I knew they forgave me but I could never forgive myself. I sat myself in the chair next to her bed and took her soft gentle hand into mine. I refused to move until she came back to me. Everybody told me to get some rest but I didn't care about myself. So they just left me by her side.
Two days later, as I still sat next to Pallavi's bed, she started to wake up. I was about to call a doctor but she told me not to.
"You're awake!" I practically yelled crying.
"You're ok." She said quietly, smiling.
"Yeah but I would trade places with you in a heart beat. Do you know how much it hurts me too see you like this?"
"Arpit?"
"Yeah?" something in her voice worried me.
"I love you"
"I love you too but-"
"Tell my parents and Baba I love them and promise you'll never forget me." She said crying.
"WHAT? NO! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!" I screamed crying.
"I love you Pallavi." She cried as she closed her eyes.
"NO! DON'T GO!" I yelled louder.
Her dad ran in when he heard me as the heart monitor went flat. I ran out of the way and into his arms as doctors and nurses rushed to Pallavi's side.
One year later
The doctors did everything they could that day to save Pallavi but it was hopeless. We had lost her forever. She was gone and would never come back. To this day, people still tiptoe around me, scared of what I might do if they mention her name and to tell you the truth, I don't blame them. It's exactly one year today since Pallavi died so I lay here on my bed tears rolling down my cheeks looking at a picture of hers and I as a song on the radio caught my attention.
Although you're so many miles from meI just want you to know I could never forget you...
Sitting here in my room aloneGot the radio onAnd it's playing our songI keep your picture beside my bedAnd as I hold it so closeI keep hearing you saying"I love you, and wherever I am, I'm thinking of you"So until you come back to me...
(Chorus)I'll send my love to you straight from the heartBaby I miss you, baby I miss youI feel you so near though we're so far apartBaby I miss you, baby I miss you
Tears like rain falling from my eyesAs we said our good-byesI could feel my heart breakOnly emptiness filled my soulI was half not whole...
I promised her that I wouldn't let anything happen to her and I broke that promise. But one promise I'll never brake is the one of never forgetting her cause she's the one person I'll never forget.