Debate Mansion

India-Forums

   
Debate Mansion
Debate Mansion

Mujhe Kuch Kehna Hai (Page 147)

hindu4lyf IF-Rockerz
hindu4lyf
hindu4lyf

Joined: 25 March 2008
Posts: 9354

Posted: 25 May 2011 at 6:43pm | IP Logged
Originally posted by return_to_hades

http://www.someecards.com/2011/04/06/the-best-obnoxious-responses-to-misspellings-on-facebook

This page is hilarious. The best part is America bombing labia. ROFL

LOL the grammar nazi inside you is awake?Tongue

They say if you're losing an argument..the best thing to do is to correct spelling ;)

-Aaliyah- IF-Sizzlerz
-Aaliyah-
-Aaliyah-

Joined: 25 March 2010
Posts: 16346

Posted: 25 May 2011 at 6:44pm | IP Logged
Originally posted by hindu4lyf

Originally posted by Simi_PagalLadki

I agree! I like Jesse's voice better than Finn's. I was gaga over Finn's voice before Jesse came along but once Jesse sang I was like ShockedLOL

Finn is strictly average compared to Jesse. Seeing Finn jealous at Prom was one of the best things in that episode. One of the best episodes according to me.

His voice is amazing but I hate him after he egged Rachel. What a jerk. Why oh why would she agree to go to prom with him? :\ Same old desperate Rachel I guess.

I know! I'm hating how Rachel desperate Rachel can get. She should stick with Jesse!
*Woh Ajnabee* IF-Sizzlerz
*Woh Ajnabee*
*Woh Ajnabee*

Joined: 15 September 2007
Posts: 22970

Posted: 25 May 2011 at 9:00pm | IP Logged
It was a nice read, so I thought I'd share:

August 2, 2009
Modern Love

Those Aren't Fighting Words, Dear

By LAURA A. MUNSON

LET'S say you have what you believe to be a healthy marriage. You're still friends and lovers after spending more than half of your lives together. The dreams you set out to achieve in your 20s — gazing into each other's eyes in candlelit city bistros when you were single and skinny — have for the most part come true.

Two decades later you have the 20 acres of land, the farmhouse, the children, the dogs and horses. You're the parents you said you would be, full of love and guidance. You've done it all: Disneyland, camping, Hawaii, Mexico, city living, stargazing.

Sure, you have your marital issues, but on the whole you feel so self-satisfied about how things have worked out that you would never, in your wildest nightmares, think you would hear these words from your husband one fine summer day: "I don't love you anymore. I'm not sure I ever did. I'm moving out. The kids will understand. They'll want me to be happy."

But wait. This isn't the divorce story you think it is. Neither is it a begging-him-to-stay story. It's a story about hearing your husband say "I don't love you anymore" and deciding not to believe him. And what can happen as a result.

Here's a visual: Child throws a temper tantrum. Tries to hit his mother. But the mother doesn't hit back, lecture or punish. Instead, she ducks. Then she tries to go about her business as if the tantrum isn't happening. She doesn't "reward" the tantrum. She simply doesn't take the tantrum personally because, after all, it's not about her.

Let me be clear: I'm not saying my husband was throwing a child's tantrum. No. He was in the grip of something else — a profound and far more troubling meltdown that comes not in childhood but in midlife, when we perceive that our personal trajectory is no longer arcing reliably upward as it once did. But I decided to respond the same way I'd responded to my children's tantrums. And I kept responding to it that way. For four months.

"I don't love you anymore. I'm not sure I ever did."

His words came at me like a speeding fist, like a sucker punch, yet somehow in that moment I was able to duck. And once I recovered and composed myself, I managed to say, "I don't buy it." Because I didn't.

He drew back in surprise. Apparently he'd expected me to burst into tears, to rage at him, to threaten him with a custody battle. Or beg him to change his mind.

So he turned mean. "I don't like what you've become."

Gut-wrenching pause. How could he say such a thing? That's when I really wanted to fight. To rage. To cry. But I didn't.

Instead, a shroud of calm enveloped me, and I repeated those words: "I don't buy it."

You see, I'd recently committed to a non-negotiable understanding with myself. I'd committed to "The End of Suffering." I'd finally managed to exile the voices in my head that told me my personal happiness was only as good as my outward success, rooted in things that were often outside my control. I'd seen the insanity of that equation and decided to take responsibility for my own happiness. And I mean all of it.

My husband hadn't yet come to this understanding with himself. He had enjoyed many years of hard work, and its rewards had supported our family of four all along. But his new endeavor hadn't been going so well, and his ability to be the breadwinner was in rapid decline. He'd been miserable about this, felt useless, was losing himself emotionally and letting himself go physically. And now he wanted out of our marriage; to be done with our family.

But I wasn't buying it.

I said: "It's not age-appropriate to expect children to be concerned with their parents' happiness. Not unless you want to create co-dependents who'll spend their lives in bad relationships and therapy. There are times in every relationship when the parties involved need a break. What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?"

"Huh?" he said.

"Go trekking in Nepal. Build a yurt in the back meadow. Turn the garage studio into a man-cave. Get that drum set you've always wanted. Anything but hurting the children and me with a reckless move like the one you're talking about."

Then I repeated my line, "What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?"

"Huh?"

"How can we have a responsible distance?"

"I don't want distance," he said. "I want to move out."

My mind raced. Was it another woman? Drugs? Unconscionable secrets? But I stopped myself. I would not suffer.

Instead, I went to my desk, Googled "responsible separation" and came up with a list. It included things like: Who's allowed to use what credit cards? Who are the children allowed to see you with in town? Who's allowed keys to what?

I looked through the list and passed it on to him.

His response: "Keys? We don't even have keys to our house."

I remained stoic. I could see pain in his eyes. Pain I recognized.

"Oh, I see what you're doing," he said. "You're going to make me go into therapy. You're not going to let me move out. You're going to use the kids against me."

"I never said that. I just asked: What can we do to give you the distance you need ... "

"Stop saying that!"

Well, he didn't move out.

Instead, he spent the summer being unreliable. He stopped coming home at his usual six o'clock. He would stay out late and not call. He blew off our entire Fourth of July — the parade, the barbecue, the fireworks — to go to someone else's party. When he was at home, he was distant. He wouldn't look me in the eye. He didn't even wish me "Happy Birthday."

But I didn't play into it. I walked my line. I told the kids: "Daddy's having a hard time as adults often do. But we're a family, no matter what." I was not going to suffer. And neither were they.

MY trusted friends were irate on my behalf. "How can you just stand by and accept this behavior? Kick him out! Get a lawyer!"

I walked my line with them, too. This man was hurting, yet his problem wasn't mine to solve. In fact, I needed to get out of his way so he could solve it.

I know what you're thinking: I'm a pushover. I'm weak and scared and would put up with anything to keep the family together. I'm probably one of those women who would endure physical abuse. But I can assure you, I'm not. I load 1,500-pound horses into trailers and gallop through the high country of Montana all summer. I went through Pitocin-induced natural childbirth. And a Caesarean section without follow-up drugs. I am handy with a chain saw.

I simply had come to understand that I was not at the root of my husband's problem. He was. If he could turn his problem into a marital fight, he could make it about us. I needed to get out of the way so that wouldn't happen.

Privately, I decided to give him time. Six months.

I had good days, and I had bad days. On the good days, I took the high road. I ignored his lashing out, his merciless jabs. On bad days, I would fester in the August sun while the kids ran through sprinklers, raging at him in my mind. But I never wavered. Although it may sound ridiculous to say "Don't take it personally" when your husband tells you he no longer loves you, sometimes that's exactly what you have to do.

Instead of issuing ultimatums, yelling, crying or begging, I presented him with options. I created a summer of fun for our family and welcomed him to share in it, or not — it was up to him. If he chose not to come along, we would miss him, but we would be just fine, thank you very much. And we were.

And, yeah, you can bet I wanted to sit him down and persuade him to stay. To love me. To fight for what we've created. You can bet I wanted to.

But I didn't.

I barbecued. Made lemonade. Set the table for four. Loved him from afar.

And one day, there he was, home from work early, mowing the lawn. A man doesn't mow his lawn if he's going to leave it. Not this man. Then he fixed a door that had been broken for eight years. He made a comment about our front porch needing paint. Our front porch. He mentioned needing wood for next winter. The future. Little by little, he started talking about the future.

It was Thanksgiving dinner that sealed it. My husband bowed his head humbly and said, "I'm thankful for my family."

He was back.

And I saw what had been missing: pride. He'd lost pride in himself. Maybe that's what happens when our egos take a hit in midlife and we realize we're not as young and golden anymore.

When life's knocked us around. And our childhood myths reveal themselves to be just that. The truth feels like the biggest sucker-punch of them all: it's not a spouse or land or a job or money that brings us happiness. Those achievements, those relationships, can enhance our happiness, yes, but happiness has to start from within. Relying on any other equation can be lethal.

My husband had become lost in the myth. But he found his way out. We've since had the hard conversations. In fact, he encouraged me to write about our ordeal. To help other couples who arrive at this juncture in life. People who feel scared and stuck. Who believe their temporary feelings are permanent. Who see an easy out, and think they can escape.

My husband tried to strike a deal. Blame me for his pain. Unload his feelings of personal disgrace onto me.

But I ducked. And I waited. And it worked.

Laura A. Munson is a writer who lives in Whitefish, Mont.

Copyright 2009 The New York Times Company

The following 1 member(s) liked the above post:

mr.ass

mr.ass IF-Rockerz
mr.ass
mr.ass

Joined: 27 October 2008
Posts: 9475

Posted: 25 May 2011 at 9:06pm | IP Logged
^^ aww thats such a lovely story :D 
mr.ass IF-Rockerz
mr.ass
mr.ass

Joined: 27 October 2008
Posts: 9475

Posted: 25 May 2011 at 9:08pm | IP Logged
I killed a cockroach yesterday :D it was so big and vulgar :( 
*Woh Ajnabee* IF-Sizzlerz
*Woh Ajnabee*
*Woh Ajnabee*

Joined: 15 September 2007
Posts: 22970

Posted: 25 May 2011 at 9:14pm | IP Logged
Okay this is funny! If you didn't know this already ... your duckface is beyond annoying.

(And this is why I try not to have any other tabs open when I'm reading articles online ... because then I have this tendency to share every single article I come across!)

May 25, 2011

Duck Hunting on the Internet

By SARAH MILLER

REGULAR Facebook perusers are no doubt familiar with a certain photographic expression: a pout-producing, cheekbone-enhancing pose featuring pooched-out lips and sucked-in cheeks.

The intended effect is a certain sultry allure. The actual result, many agree, is a duckface.

The duckface has become so prevalent in this age of perpetual smartphone snapshots that the look is now the target of a growing and vehement backlash.

"Stop doing it. It isn't sexy," proclaims the mission statement of the Web site antiduckface.com, whose content consists of photos of people making a duckface, and thousands of disparaging comments. There's also an anti-duckface Facebook page, with over 16,000 likes, and a Twitter feed, with over 1,500 followers.

"Take your lips and put them back to normal," croons John Gamble, 28, of Easthampton, Mass., in a song he wrote after his fiance complained she was "sick of girls making duckface." A video of him performing the tune has been viewed by an estimated three million people.

Anti-duckfacers debate how this phenomenon came about. Some blame Miley Cyrus. Others blame Eliot Spitzer's prostitute friend Ashley. Some blame Donald Trump.  (Seem ridiculous? Google "trump duckface.") Megan Fox duckfaced for a Motorola Super Bowl ad and is widely acknowledged among anti-duckfacers as the only person alive who looks good making a duckface.

The 1994 film "Four Weddings and a Funeral" has one of the first known mentions of the term. Duckface is the nickname bestowed by Hugh Grant's Sloane Ranger posse upon his pouting girlfriend.

But duckfacing itself is probably far older.  

 The self-conscious sexiness of an exaggerated pout is a fashion standby. Simon Doonan of Barneys cited the infantile moue of the '60s and Blue Steel glint of the '90s and added, "Models have always made exaggerated facial grimaces of one sort or another."

But there is little evidence that it is attractive on civilians. Christian Rudder, 35, a founder of the dating site OkCupid, was so appalled by the amount of duckface on the site that he conducted a study to see which expressions best attracted prospective dates. He found that smiling drew more responses than duckfacing. "Unfortunately," he said, "it's just the pose people strike when they take their own picture because they think it makes them look hot."

There are signs that the anti-duckface movement is having some effect. Zoe Slavonic, 16, from Nevada City, Calif., whose Facebook page was to duckface what the Frick Collection is to Whistler, saw Mr. Gamble's video and erased all her duckface pictures. D'Arcy Drollinger, 42, who recently played Lindsay Lohan at La Mama, received an e-mail with a link to antiduckface.com. Soon after he posted on Facebook: "I'm horrified, no more duckface."


mr.ass IF-Rockerz
mr.ass
mr.ass

Joined: 27 October 2008
Posts: 9475

Posted: 25 May 2011 at 9:21pm | IP Logged
whose duckface :S 
mr.ass IF-Rockerz
mr.ass
mr.ass

Joined: 27 October 2008
Posts: 9475

Posted: 25 May 2011 at 9:23pm | IP Logged
give us an example of a duckface!

Go to top

Related Topics

  Topics Author Replies Views Last Post
Kaho jo kehna hai + share articles / latest News

2 3 4 5 6 7 ... 149 150

Author: raj5000   Replies: 1196   Views: 71237

raj5000 1196 71237 23 July 2010 at 11:05pm by return_to_hades
Mujhe Kuch Kehna hai/Discuss current News

2 3 4 5 6 7 ... 108 109

Author: raj5000   Replies: 864   Views: 41242

raj5000 864 41242 03 November 2008 at 8:55pm by raj5000
Mujhe bhi kuchh kehna hai !!!!!!

2 3 4 5 6 7 ... 108 109

Author: ani11   Replies: 867   Views: 27729

ani11 867 27729 05 June 2007 at 10:08pm by Gauri_3
KABHI ALVIDA NA KEHNA

2 3 4

Author: Too_Much   Replies: 31   Views: 3324

Too_Much 31 3324 24 August 2006 at 6:38pm by RandomSquared
Debate: Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna -Overrated?

2 3 4 5 6 7 ... 11 12

Author: shizajaved   Replies: 90   Views: 9044

shizajaved 90 9044 12 July 2006 at 4:47pm by ishan2003

Forum Quick Jump

Forum Category / Channels
Forums

Debate Mansion Topic Index

  • Please login to check your Last 10 Topics posted

Disclaimer: All Logos and Pictures of various Channels, Shows, Artistes, Media Houses, Companies, Brands etc. belong to their respective owners, and are used to merely visually identify the Channels, Shows, Companies, Brands, etc. to the viewer. Incase of any issue please contact the webmaster.

Popular Channels :
Star Plus | Zee TV | Sony TV | Colors TV | SAB TV | Life OK

Quick Links :
Top 100 TV Celebrities | Top 100 Bollywood Celebs | About Us | Contact Us | Advertise | Forum Index