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	<title>Naari - The Woman &#187; Humor</title>
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		<title>A day from my Diary&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://naari-thewoman.com/2009/11/a-day-from-my-diary/</link>
		<comments>http://naari-thewoman.com/2009/11/a-day-from-my-diary/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 03 Nov 2009 12:10:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Varada</dc:creator>
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		<category><![CDATA[Humor]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Dear Diary, Today was a very special (?) day. My birthday dawned upon me just like it had in the last few years. A tiny butterfly rolling in my tummy with anticipation and dread. Anticipation &#8211; may be someone will remember and wish me, send me flowers and stuff. Dread &#8211; well, one more year [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img title="lonely" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="192" alt="lonely" src="http://naari-thewoman.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/lonely.jpg" width="240" align="left" border="0" /> Dear Diary, Today was a very special (?) day. </p>
<p>My birthday dawned upon me just like it had in the last few years. A tiny butterfly rolling in my tummy with anticipation and dread. Anticipation &#8211; may be someone will remember and wish me, send me flowers and stuff. Dread &#8211; well, one more year gone, I am closer to the &quot;middle age&quot; by another 365 days. </p>
<p>Well, I was born in a large family some 3 (or 4?) decades ago in Indonesia. After some smiles and some tears, finally I am here. In India. Working for a Software Company &#8211; from my Mom&#8217;s crowded kitchen to the plush ambience of this office, the journey was not always smooth. But all that is history. Which no one remembers, but me. So no point boring you with the details. </p>
<p>0900 Hrs: With the anticipation and dread I mentioned above, I sit in the Cafetaria. A group of co-workers passes by. I am all ears (and eyes too). But alas, no one notices me. &quot;No probs. Don&#8217;t worry, the day has just started. Someone will remember. May be they are planning a surprise for me&#8230; &quot; I console myself. </p>
<p>1100 Hrs: I sit in the Cafe&#8217;. Still waiting. <img src='http://naari-thewoman.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_smile.gif' alt=':)' class='wp-smiley' />  slowly turning into <img src='http://naari-thewoman.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_sad.gif' alt=':(' class='wp-smiley' /> . </p>
<p>1300 Hrs: All the people come down to have lunch. I look up expectantly at each face, trying hard not to be too obvious. Doesn&#8217;t work. No wishes. </p>
<p>1530 Hrs: Scene: Cafe&#8217;. My co-workers, whom I thought to be my friends, come in many groups. Chattering happily (it&#8217;s a Friday, you see), giggling, cursing the strict project timelines or company policies &#8211; all sorts of conversations. Then she comes. Oh, did she make an attempt to look extra gorgeous today? For me? My heart races to match the speed of a Formula-1 car. She comes near me. Casually touches her hand on my face. I turn tomato orange or a similar shade of pink. Just about to faint. Still no wishes. </p>
<p>1700 Hrs: I sit in the Cafe&#8217; and doze off. I see a large party, a huge cake, she puts it all over my face and laughs like pearls falling on marble. Some utensil crashes in the adjacent kitchen. I wake up. No wishes. </p>
<p>1900 Hrs: The day ends just like any other &#8211; with everyone leaving for their home. No one wished me today. All my dreams are shattered. A tiny sob escapes my mouth. But alas, there&#8217;s no one around to notice, to see a poor, honest, sincere employee weeping on his birthday. </p>
<p>2200 Hrs: &quot;Never mind&quot;, I tell myself, &quot;Never you mind. &#8230;&quot; and I weep myself to sleep. (;_;) </p>
<p>Yours truly,    <br />~The Coffee table nearest to snack bar,     <br />ABC Inc., India.</p>
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