<?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-24581753</id><updated>2011-11-06T02:13:33.033-08:00</updated><title type='text'>universal</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarasansar.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24581753/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarasansar.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>sarasansar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00473317108248947324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24581753.post-114633125210522774</id><published>2006-04-30T21:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-30T09:19:26.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sons  vs  Daughters</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Girls  will  be  girls  and  boys  can  be  baffling. Ask  the  moms  who  struggle  to  understand them.&lt;br /&gt;any  mom  who  thinks  bringing  up  a  boy  and  a  girl  is  all  the  same  is  in    for  quite  a  surprise.  Whoever   said  men  are  from  mars  and  women    from  venus  knew  what  he  was  talking  about.  That's  the  reason  why  mothers  are  often  spotted  wringing  their  hands  in  despair  as  they  try  to  make  sense  of  what  their  kids  are  saying  to  them,  or  not  saying  to  them.&lt;br /&gt;I  gathered  some  statements  given  by  different  mothers  about  their  children&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I might  have  scared  my  son  for  life",  fears  Hema.  "He  was  in  class I,  I have  gone  to  his  school  and  hugged  him  in  front  of  his  friends.  Ever  since  our  relationship  beyond  the  four  walls  of  our  home  has  steadily  gone  downhill."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Priya's  experience  is  a  little  different. "My  daughter  was  in  class I  and  when  I  went  to  meet  her  teacher,  my  daughter  stood  there,  arms  akimbo  and  declared  "Mama,  this  is  the  teacher  who  is  always  scolding  me.  ask  her  not  to.  I  don't  know  who  was  more  horrified-the  teacher  or  I," she  says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  difference  btween  sons  and  daughters  continues  to  baffle  mothers  the  world  over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take  the  mother  who  went  to  her  son's  school  to  collect  his  report  card.  "While  my  son  hung  around  me  shifty  eyed  sullen  and  clearly  uneasy,  the  girls  in  his  class  seemed  to  have  no  problems  at  all  displaying  daughterly  love.  They  came  arm  in  arm  with  their  parents  and  cheerfuly  introduced  to  them  to  their  friends.  it  caused  quite  a  pang  of  envy  in  me.",  admits  Swati,  who  is  reconciled  to  having  her  son  treat  her  like  she  was  invisible  in  school. "It  was  not  always  like  that.  There  was  a  time  when  he  would  get  fidgety,  nervous,  tetchy  and  even  tearfull  if  I  was  not  in  his  line  of  vision.  He  still  gets  that  way.  Only  now  that  is  because  I  am  in  his  line  of  vision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Somebody  called  and  he  said  it  was  urgent  and  you  should  call  back  immidiately."  that  is  Kamala's  son  giving  her  a  message.  while  she  waits  expectantly  for  more  information,  he  goes  back  to  TV  indicating  the  conversation  is  closed. " I  have  no  name  or  number  of  the  caller,  all  I  have  a  growing  headache  wondering  who  wanted  to  talk  to  me  urgently.  If  my  daughter  had  taken  the  call,  she  would  have  all  the  details,  including  the  callers  lineage,  what  he  had  for  lunch  and  his  holiday  plans.  she  would  have  also  told  him  where  we  keep  the  family  silver!",says  Kamala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But  it  is  also  true  that  her  daughter  wanted  her  to  participate  in  a  local  beauty  peagent.  "My  size,  my  age  and  the  fact  that  I  would  have  a  hard  time  launching  a  paper  boat,  let  alone  a  thousand  ships,  had  completely  escaped  her  notice.  On  the  other  hand  when  I  told  my  son  that  he  should  not  hate  girls  and  that  he  should  talk  to  them-after  all,  I  was  a  female  too-  my  son's  response  was  'you  are  not  a  female,  you  are  my  mother'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take  that  as  a  rare  complement.  By  now  you  should  know  that  such  statements  are  better  left  unexplained.  Like  that  old  wise  mom  said, "The  mother-children  relationship  is  a  strange  and  wonderful  one,  they  are  STRANGE  and  we  are  WONDERFUL."&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/24581753-114633125210522774?l=sarasansar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarasansar.blogspot.com/feeds/114633125210522774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24581753&amp;postID=114633125210522774' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24581753/posts/default/114633125210522774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24581753/posts/default/114633125210522774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarasansar.blogspot.com/2006/04/sons-vs-daughters.html' title='Sons  vs  Daughters'/><author><name>sarasansar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00473317108248947324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24581753.post-114339283448436858</id><published>2006-03-26T09:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T09:07:14.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1700/2550/640/family%20078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1700/2550/320/family%20078.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24581753-114339283448436858?l=sarasansar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarasansar.blogspot.com/feeds/114339283448436858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24581753&amp;postID=114339283448436858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24581753/posts/default/114339283448436858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24581753/posts/default/114339283448436858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarasansar.blogspot.com/2006/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>sarasansar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00473317108248947324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24581753.post-114309758408909164</id><published>2006-03-23T12:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T23:06:24.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My  Life</title><content type='html'>I  have  travelled  long  long  years  in  my  life.  Like  everybody's  lives  I  had  also  many  joyfull  days  as  well  as  suffered  many  sarrows.  Now  I  am  happy  with  my  Husband,  Daughter, Son,  Son-in-law  and  a  sweet  grandson.&lt;br /&gt;I  have  also  many  more  children,  who  are  my  students.  I  try  to  help  them  learning  Maths  in  daily  life.&lt;br /&gt;But  I  think  though  we  learn  so  much  calculations,    can  we  apply  everything  in  our  daily  lives?  I  scold  my  students  when  they  do  wrong  calculations,  but  what  about  me  who  have  done  many  wrong  calculations  in  her  life?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24581753-114309758408909164?l=sarasansar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarasansar.blogspot.com/feeds/114309758408909164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24581753&amp;postID=114309758408909164' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24581753/posts/default/114309758408909164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24581753/posts/default/114309758408909164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarasansar.blogspot.com/2006/03/my-life.html' title='My  Life'/><author><name>sarasansar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00473317108248947324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry></feed>
