tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-93984532012-01-24T00:02:23.662+05:30I have always used to write, scribble but never save them. I think this the perfect journal i am going to keep on musings, idealogy, climatic changes in persona... you get the picture, don't you. I had earlier named it "Renaissance" for the essence of revival of writing for me. I have now updated the name of this since it is purely various works on Fiction, poetry and varied verses.Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.comBlogger391100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1160762653641989692006-10-13T23:33:00.000+05:302006-10-13T23:34:13.653+05:30

Trembling leaves on fall,from giant timbers that stand tall,burn ground with hues of orange,turn the land into colored mélange.Small showers kiss the ground,wetness permeates all around,Moon and Stars turn night to silver,lightning flashes, boughs shiver.Sunny rays peeps through white curtains,as warmth seeps in after the rains,a season before cold turns you purple,and the water in the pond still

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1143245983900493092006-03-25T05:42:00.000+05:302006-03-25T05:49:43.923+05:30

A quiet corner, in a busy footpath, scraggy looker; shining copper plate eaten from everyday, also clinks of coins clumsy pedestrians give wide berthwith slaps of loose slippers,over puddles of yesterday's rain,as evening dawns on the night,moons creeps along the amber sky the corner occupant, leaves to his den, made of crooks; plate under his arm, clutched like sole possession, plucks coins out

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1125079797339937012005-08-26T23:38:00.000+05:302005-08-26T23:39:57.340+05:30

Gentle froth bubbles warmth,as cupped hands hold; light within.Voices carry, of friends – old and new,minds congregate, culture and habits chinwag.Purple blush, shades the cranium,in feverish pitch to meet and succumb.Tones of voices, linger in beany aroma,through musings of art, and of heart.Intoxicate your soul, infuse; live,inebriated, even in amethyst sobriety.Breathe air into vacuum – with

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1125079691646163002005-08-26T23:37:00.000+05:302005-08-26T23:38:11.646+05:30

Dance under sunlight, brilliant in hue,flap - yet no sound, gentle beauty,gather in, sweetness from around,colour palettes you touch,.Caressing dewdrops in crystal shine,vivid colours, exploring our landscape,as if Godly brush splattered,coloured polka dots, in earthy garden.Metamorph ugly into beautiful,bringing colour to green,float on a wave of breeze,winged dreams blush colourless.If my wings

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1125079637634815652005-08-26T23:33:00.000+05:302005-08-26T23:37:17.640+05:30

Laughter fills the camphor heavy air,tradition plays host, with pipes and drumsdecked in gold, enough to tempt an invasion,the silk route seems to have taken a diversion.Scores of children, amongst incessant chatter,pubescent boys eyeing teenage girls,mothers’ showing off their eligible offspring,bride and groom, hide shy laughter.A day or three, festivities make colour,cooks clamour, into

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1123272607456442712005-08-06T01:36:00.000+05:302005-08-06T01:40:07.463+05:30

Strange Title? Yeah, I know. These were three words i got at an exercise conducted by the poetry circle at BC. Had to come up with a Poem on the Spot. Let me know what you think.The keys tapped fast on the ribbon,the hands seemingly familiar,no flounders on the wordand yet, the storyteller stopped.Silence, as the typewriter rested.As the chapter closed,trouble began to brew,Upstairs he ran, to

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1121106606136338712005-07-11T23:58:00.000+05:302005-07-12T00:00:06.136+05:30

No purpose, those tears locked withinsmile, for that dark cloud needs silverpatter of rain on your roof, tingles;as you inhale freshness.Your tongue salivates, to wafting aromafrom your mothers’ kitchen,golden honey, red pepper, green veggies,just as flowers splash colour.Shiver, on a cold morning,as warmth creeps, from a cuppa,misty breath, rested limbsstretch in anticipation of a day

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1121106504975329112005-07-11T23:57:00.000+05:302005-07-11T23:58:24.980+05:30

Don’t suspend it,Do it, like there was no morrow,forgive, as there was no yesterday,laugh, with stars in your eyes,cry with joy for just living,say, feel and give lovewithout anticipating it back,shower that smile on a stranger,do random acts of kindness,for no purpose in mind,like whispery clouds, let merry float;reach down, into melted heart,for that supply of life’s chocolatebrown, like a

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1119883562366635702005-06-27T20:15:00.000+05:302005-06-27T20:16:02.366+05:30

Void of throaty rasps,looms like knife on edge,over threaded chasmsof every nervous eye,seeking refuge in agonyunknowing and hollow,threatens existence of mind,questions loudly ignored,and yet peace, like a feather,falling into empty space,devoid of air, and yet such danceslight up, throwing the mindinto an infinite essence,of what nothingness can bring.

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1119883530465522742005-06-27T20:14:00.001+05:302005-06-27T20:15:30.466+05:30

Darkness beckons, black as still,swift wings, carrion and waste,bullied by passersby’s’ stones oft,ominous in colour, thou shall despiseintellectually adaptive, we prevail,no chirping, or sweet duets sung,selfish and crude, behave like man,challenge us in our flock or nest,we united, loud, squawk away threats,electric poles and coconut trees,waste dumps, graveyardsbeautifully black and an urban

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1119883484127605782005-06-27T20:14:00.000+05:302005-06-27T20:14:44.133+05:30

Does freedom actually disappear when a man gets married? Or a woman for that matter.This was a question that tortures every soul before they take the final plunge, some take many plunges within their lifetimes. A friend of mine said, upon me asking, ‘Love or Arranged marriage?’ He said, ‘it’s like asking whether you prefer accidental death or suicide’.Let me take to this topic like a cat does

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1118094532398511302005-06-07T03:17:00.000+05:302005-06-07T03:18:52.396+05:30

Wet, muggy air hits my face this May,Wince, my face does,Sun shone, burnbigger cracks into dry mud,parched leaves shower dusty disbeliefpipes ran dry, and yet fans squeakedin sultry rooms,barely moving the heavy airMy face, shone with resplendour,was just rivulets of salty excretionshirts stuck, as traffic slowedin bright heat,we rinse our browevery opportune, drinkthis glorious summerin our warm

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1118094420110926462005-06-07T03:15:00.000+05:302005-06-07T03:17:00.110+05:30

Favour the mind’s choice when youngon paths led astray, and re-led back,forgiving mistakes of friends and family,growing within, from strengthsand many more such weaknesses,from enemies found within,emerges courage, pureaffliction dies youngwith just addiction living to livecasts a spell only will can breakproving that addiction is just,another stone to step on.

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1118094323880902592005-06-07T03:13:00.000+05:302005-06-07T03:15:23.886+05:30

Ver 1.0Her sweat, like citrus smelt. Our eyes locked into our fragrant minds. It was twilight for us, as one we united. Our skin, hot to our flaming touches; exploring depths of wanting. Like soft velvet, our lips played. Our bodies in sync to each move we made. With rhythm of our hearts, our sounds escaped our bodies as we hit that wonderful tone of our tune.Ver 2.0She was sweaty in my arms

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1116277373963352242005-05-17T02:31:00.000+05:302005-05-17T02:32:53.966+05:30

Soulful eyes, doling out those sweet memoriesyester-years, flew fast and yet they last,look up, my little child,for your future is full of colour,father, mother, grandpa & grandma,await your smile everyday,from name collages to raggedly smilesyou awaken younger years in their lives,look up as they do to you,you are the pearl of their oyster worldglow, glimmer and growI only see pride on every

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1114811263955377322005-04-30T03:16:00.000+05:302005-04-30T03:17:43.956+05:30

Shadows plays with the Sun on leaves,warm smell of mud echoes in your senses,clear skies, brushed with colourful wings,heavy with freshness and humility,own footsteps, loud in your ears,silence; such virtues, lost; now found,peace, in that pond, that ripples betraying a fish,a gentle breeze caresses my warm skin,as life goes by, wallowed in nature,I strut within self, with gaiety,that was lost,

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1113339368690561252005-04-13T02:24:00.000+05:302005-04-13T02:26:08.693+05:30

“You bungling fool! Now you have done it”, screamed Mangalik. Das just scurried along, shuffling his dhoti clad legs into the kitchen. “The driver was always the favourite”, he thought. He had spilled hot “chai” on the memsahib’s cushion. She used the cushion in the car to support her weak back. The back weighed down by years of bearing mindless children who are now themselves the sizes of

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1111173404995267972005-03-19T00:45:00.000+05:302005-03-19T00:46:45.036+05:30

It was in the air. Love, was after all sought even in the heavenly skies. This season in heaven comes when the starry combinations of celestial bodies meet. As its immortal light shone, the Gods were swaying to rhythm divine. Drunk on nectar, and puny man’s offerings, they swung to a lone harp’s beats. With their consorts in toe, they bedecked themselves in sandalwood and priceless ornaments

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1111173288718985872005-03-19T00:43:00.000+05:302005-03-19T00:44:48.720+05:30

Sandra had a body of a Greek Goddess, amply buxom, long legs, auburn hair and those eyes, drawing every male to her. At the age of 17, the only daughter of Christiaan and Martha was carefree under the Australian sun. She loved the water, the grainy sand under her toes and the wavy surf.She loved to tease me on the water. Our surf boards always within reach; the summers were spent eternally on

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1111172017975112572005-03-19T00:20:00.000+05:302005-03-19T00:23:37.983+05:30

It was the year 2040. Things had changed. Man was no longer supreme. His brain had worked too hard and, eventually, engineered his downfall. Like mystical beings(?) they rose out of man’s mind, only to conquer man himself. The world had run amok for man. Like an etching sandstorm, built by brilliant minds, Artificial Intelligence had taken over. The last three decades had seen quantum leaps in

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1110306726027968432005-03-09T00:01:00.000+05:302005-03-09T00:02:06.036+05:30

He screamed. His lungs expelled hair as he hit the wheel hard. Breathless, he bounced off to the side of the road. His only passenger was asleep securely in the back seat. She was just two. Those two years were painful and joyous to Niranjan. His wife never survived the birth of Prarthna. The Toyota swung hard and balanced precariously on edge. The edge peered deep into some dense trees.

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1110306677374631282005-03-08T23:59:00.000+05:302005-03-09T00:01:17.380+05:30

Complete silence met her question. The question raised here was about that streaky flash in the sky on the previous night. Unknown to them, a group of high quotient men huddled over a grey disc. The field was growing cane, two months before their likely harvest. A large part was flattened and scarred. The disc was nearly 4 metres in diameter. It had unique grooves in its sides. The grooves

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1110306526618785642005-03-08T23:56:00.000+05:302005-03-08T23:58:46.626+05:30

Spinning fast, the steely rim on the bike was a shining blur. The motorbike was his dream. He called it , “Ellie”, the only other lady in his life apart from his mother. Weekends were spent cleaning, pouring love over that mean gas guzzler. She was fast and powerful. Men, women and kids all turned, powerful magnetism, to look at her, and then at him. The men were envious, the kids

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1108499409037068982005-02-16T01:58:00.000+05:302005-02-16T02:00:09.040+05:30

An ocean of emotion so deep,undying love partakes,roles, many She stars,shining in each of our lives,mother, daughter, sister, soul mate,and much, much more,grand tempest of love in our lives,as tender shoulders bears our burdens,oozing warmth like the morning sun,breathes freshness into our being,God’s Goddess,Man’s flame of life,Burning, with tides of strength,She, is our home,where all our

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1108151730330224062005-02-12T01:22:00.000+05:302005-02-12T01:25:30.333+05:30

I hate you, I love you,crammed in these words,lie an entire life,with people to care and adore,with lives to live for and die,passionate escapades undertake,with such timeless boundof starry skies to dream,under heavenly skies we dareto take ample risk to love,hate, just relinquish,share, care,cry the joy of livingas we all can say,I love you“I hate you”,thorny cactus for a heart,show a flower,

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1107443922228886762005-02-03T20:44:00.000+05:302005-02-03T20:48:42.226+05:30

“Self made” is my middle name. I have struggled my early decades, but now flourishing. I am in the business of making everything my business. Let me explain myself, I own an export and import firm, a C & F agency and run a small non profit organization helping educate children of labourers. I have always tried to take on as much as possible, into my small world. My wife left me in

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1107368408170912002005-02-02T23:48:00.000+05:302005-02-03T20:53:37.310+05:30

I love you. Those words jumped me, catching me completely unawares. I know I was a close friend to her, but I had not either flirted or gave any indication of any interest in a relationship, or had I? I was in no frame of mind to start a relationship with someone I had considered as a close friend. But then, I did not want to hurt her or distance her by rejecting her. I was caught, like rancid

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1106753217493708082005-01-26T20:56:00.000+05:302005-01-26T20:56:57.493+05:30

Pale light plays script to shadow, likeness for moods in many a mind, as folks come out to the sun, adoring the green carpet of grass, and many shimmers of butterflies, patters of little feet, jingles of infectious laughter, creaseless foreheads work at play, lost smiles found on beautiful faces, nature’s garden of rain and sun, bring out the fun in you, as we focus onwards in our lives, it is

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1106753131365781162005-01-26T20:52:00.000+05:302005-01-26T20:55:31.366+05:30

Caferati had this exercise on writing limericks and i submitted quite a few and i'd thought i'd save these somewhere and hence posting this on my blog. Enjoy In our circles of fun play with all kinds of pun rhyme your words with grime fetch your pen and indulge in crime But please, please don’t edit it by the ton. Heavy and heartful sins of love eclectic bonds form in a grove through spasms

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1106324003856178542005-01-21T21:41:00.000+05:302005-01-22T00:33:34.403+05:30

Severe diaspora encircles man, as eclectic choices bargain our personage, through a sea of unpurposed chance, gracing our every iota of existence, blameful fingers, pointing, visceral selves gasp, emoting; scouring amongst moors of homo sapiens breathe fresher tidings to every touch, like warm sunshine on cold skin stretch hands into the secret unknown, expect foreknown reaction in anticipation

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1105650923917234012005-01-14T02:43:00.000+05:302005-01-14T02:45:23.916+05:30

Like rainbow colours, they fill a mind full of eccentric life with infinite ceilings to reach dances with light and vivid images inert body, and in myriad places already ideas, fantasies, fears, strengths, love come at every forty winks. Circular expectations chance our mind reflect our soul, our deep dreams chancing us with life’s many curves like night’s many stars they emerge leave traces

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1105467432017760642005-01-11T23:35:00.000+05:302005-01-12T19:50:06.753+05:30

Man’s mirror is the conscience which reflects the wrinkles he’s tried to iron out. An image is portrayed within the blackness of your mind accounting for every path you have taken, betraying successes, failures and the balance you have chosen. On many a occasion we have come up a cliff of such magnitude where we feel dwarfed, small by how much each of us can move this scaling wall of a really

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1104946326013831732005-01-05T22:47:00.000+05:302005-01-07T01:53:25.340+05:30

Why ?? Why! Did God bother us with a stomach, and the first pair lead us to this path a path of bother, lies, impurity, mindless games, political correctness; to live a arduous life impregnating this beautiful world with hate, bigotry, living each of our lives, striving; to an end goal, meaningful, and in memory of those who matter and, more who don’t leaving marks inimitably and on those we

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1104777732280471062005-01-04T00:10:00.000+05:302005-01-04T00:12:12.280+05:30

A purposeful, steadfast stare give to those few days in our paths promises made, broken and kept do we need a new epoch for avowal, circling our own lives with a new fence keep out or gather in, like friends on the shoulder of our character spirit within, vowing compliance time has an answer to our prodding, will we be resolute, strengthen our will, but a question remains, answerable but yet

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1104355512272385642004-12-30T02:52:00.000+05:302004-12-30T02:55:12.273+05:30

I am writing this after the effect of Tsunamis on many a life on our shores caught suddenly unawares as Mother Nature unleashed her powerful stroke. We feel so insignificant and helpless against a force of nature and yet in our everyday walk of life, very few of us respect this. A Ripple in our Lives Caressing our shores with its every breath, none knew about its sudden kiss of

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1103747119137947292004-12-23T02:54:00.000+05:302004-12-23T01:55:19.136+05:30

Feeling a crisp wind on my shoulders urging me to take it on, all of it throwing any qualms astray each buoy beckons as a friend guiding our path in turbulent waters every turn leads to newer waters calling on ports of life and staying awhile, sampling, absorbing adapting ourselves with every contour bringing our spices to newer people circling land again with new discoveries and an entire log in

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1103741917963405312004-12-23T00:26:00.000+05:302004-12-23T00:28:37.963+05:30

For a young fledgling, Hope is a worm sunshine on a windy cloudy day, rain on dry desperate absorbing soil a young shoot vying for sunshine among the rainforest Hope is the last thing to die. Every mother-to-be, hoping every young teen, every struggling artist, for that very first publishing, for that first sale in a newly opened shop for the first score in a new game helpless children, victims

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1103145909065821952004-12-16T02:33:00.000+05:302004-12-16T02:55:09.066+05:30

We wage everyday battles, skirmishes and show admiration, love, anxiety and above all, freedom, words, the engine of motion in our lives evolution has given a unique weapon to share our fear, our joy with people emotively, eloquently we wield this weapon, to our utmost benefit, a baby’s first words, or a conversation with a supreme being or just a friendly gab. words have meaning, versatile

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9398453.post-1101855655508918242004-12-01T04:19:00.000+05:302004-12-04T03:55:49.333+05:30

Surreal surroundings in our world, nothing seems the way it was.. every person surrounds us with the feeling of heading towards greater accomplishment. Where is all the time that we have saved ? Where is all the love we have spent searching for, are we consumed by blurring speed of mundane daily life.. questions, they arise in our minds, with no answers or a clue.. surrogate thoughts untrack our

Harishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02520052104204697759noreply@blogger.com0