<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<!-- generator=IBNLive XML FEED Generator -->
<rss version="2.0">
    <channel>
        <title>Manish's Mania</title>
        <description>Manish Pant's blog from IBNLive.com</description>
        <link>http://www.ibnlive.com/index.html</link>
        <lastBuildDate>Tue, 23 Oct 2007 16:34:16 +0100</lastBuildDate>
        <generator>IBNLive.com</generator>
        <image>
            <url>http://www.ibnlive.com/pix/common/ibnlogo.jpg</url>
            <title>ibnlive logo</title>
            <link>http://www.ibnlive.com/index.html</link>
            <description>Feed provided by IBNLive.</description>
        </image>
        <item>
            <title>Love Story</title>
            <link>http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/manishpant/448/1283/love-story.html</link>
            <description>Once upon a time... For there is always a time for anything and everything... From germination to repetition to resurrection... In one such time there lived a crow in the</description>
            <author>editor@ibnlive.com</author>
            <pubDate>Mon, 26 Feb 2007 10:38:16 +0530</pubDate>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title>Love at First Sight</title>
            <link>http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/manishpant/448/2588/love-at-first-sight.html</link>
            <description>There was once a man and a reporter.  There was a girl.  The man fell in love with the girl.  Both walked towards different sunsets and new</description>
            <author>editor@ibnlive.com</author>
            <pubDate>Tue, 23 Oct 2007 04:08:04 +0530</pubDate>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title>Bedtime Stories</title>
            <link>http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/manishpant/448/2522/bedtime-stories.html</link>
            <description>I don't know how the stories started. Like colours old memories fade from even most rugged surface. Maybe this was occasioned by Baba reading out from a book from his</description>
            <author>editor@ibnlive.com</author>
            <pubDate>Thu, 20 Sep 2007 05:55:28 +0530</pubDate>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title>The Party</title>
            <link>http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/manishpant/448/1436/the-party.html</link>
            <description>&quot;Welcome sir. How're you?,&quot; and the keeper opens the door to Noah's Ark.  Up a flight of wooden steps and in. It's past nine thirty and the evening has</description>
            <author>editor@ibnlive.com</author>
            <pubDate>Wed, 18 Apr 2007 09:42:20 +0530</pubDate>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title>Monsoon</title>
            <link>http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/manishpant/448/1342/monsoon.html</link>
            <description>It was like any other monsoon morning in Mumbai. The sky covered by a grey veil of clouds was in mourning. The gloom seemed to have descended from the heavens</description>
            <author>editor@ibnlive.com</author>
            <pubDate>Wed, 14 Feb 2007 02:25:55 +0530</pubDate>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title>Mala</title>
            <link>http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/manishpant/448/1344/mala.html</link>
            <description>&quot;Mala is dead,&quot; my reporter's voice crackled on the phone. The news left me stunned. I felt a sudden sense of loss overwhelm me.  Not that she was supposed</description>
            <author>editor@ibnlive.com</author>
            <pubDate>Wed, 14 Feb 2007 02:20:59 +0530</pubDate>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title>Bombay</title>
            <link>http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/manishpant/448/1343/bombay.html</link>
            <description>Bombay. My first images of the city are from films that I saw at Delhi's Chanakya cinema with my parents. In the late 70s, of ABBA and BoneyM and an</description>
            <author>editor@ibnlive.com</author>
            <pubDate>Wed, 14 Feb 2007 02:11:59 +0530</pubDate>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title>To the One I Love</title>
            <link>http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/manishpant/448/2560/to-the-one-i-love.html</link>
            <description>&lt;em&gt;...time passes as quickly as a white colt glimpsed through a crack in the wall.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;- Nichiren Daishonin (1222-1282)&lt;/strong&gt;   - &quot;What do I write this week?,&quot; I asked</description>
            <author>editor@ibnlive.com</author>
            <pubDate>Fri, 12 Oct 2007 05:41:36 +0530</pubDate>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title>Rains</title>
            <link>http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/manishpant/448/2092/rains.html</link>
            <description>&lt;b&gt;Mumbai has become a city of eunuchs&lt;/b&gt;Nine days ago Sadanand Nikam's daughter was stabbed 20 times by her lover on a street in Thane at 9.30 am. There were hundreds</description>
            <author>editor@ibnlive.com</author>
            <pubDate>Thu, 05 Jul 2007 12:21:35 +0530</pubDate>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title>Motilal &amp; Sons</title>
            <link>http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/manishpant/448/2548/motilal--sons.html</link>
            <description>- &quot;If you're so sleepy please wait outside my room!,&quot; Sharma remarked even as my eyes closed for the umpteenth time.  - &quot;No. It's not that. I often close</description>
            <author>editor@ibnlive.com</author>
            <pubDate>Wed, 03 Oct 2007 02:04:44 +0530</pubDate>
        </item>
    </channel>
</rss>
