"Don't dawdle Alice"

"Don't dawdle Alice"

One line that always reminds me of Alice in Wonderland.
A line said by the ever intelligent cat which shows Alice the key to priorities.
And Alice as she is,even at such high priority time is awestruck by the world she is in.
So peculiar of her,right.
And in turn,of you,me and us all.
No day is useless.No day is aimless.
Yet aimless drifting is what we have been doing since ages at a stretch.
That check that needs to be processed,that chapter that needs to be studied,the effort that needs to be put,that phone call that we had to do.
But we as Alice are most lost in other entanglements.
And it is more sad cause half of the important times are just lost in the nerdy hitches that rise in our throats.
All are just stuck up in an inanimate time frame.
A state which would always come with splashes of pleasure and pain.
It's just that we have been postponing them.

So,Alice this is for you and for me.

The time to dawdle is over.
The time has come,come for things that need to be handled,for plans that need to be executed.
I have been witnessing that 3/4th of my life's situations am leaving in the hands of the river's flow.

But time has come to question the 3/4ths and merge as one voice.

So,please Alice don't dawdle,let's run and that too real hard.


(For the wonderful image and other work's of the author,visit Image source)

~Harsha

Placid death

Fathom the seas.
Ride the mountains.
Pull that plug.
Stitch the time.
Do the now.
Make the move.
Catch that bus.
Hop the train.
Trim that waist.
Catch that heist.
Touch that girl.
Kiss your love.
Win that job.
Earn that sum.

Placid death,isn't it.
Although placid but still it is there as always.
And that's what I have been enjoying since past few days,a placid death.
Atleast my one happy hobby shouldn't die a placid death.
Atleast one part of me doesn't get pressed in the undertones but emerge stronger.
And hence I write.
Wanted to say-That hence I write and hence I live.


~Harsha

ctrl+alt+delete

What to do when a standstill is stretched beyond boundaries.
What to feel when repetitive flogging drains the brain's carcass.
What to do when the sole point of doing something itself becomes so disturbing that the questions sometime shield you as much as they hinder you.
Feeling of not achieving things have elevated to such an extent that I am revelling in the pain of failures.
The only bouts of freshness or rather masochistic happiness has been the spasms of nothing ness.

Dreams shattered,happiness stabbed,mediocrity slumped...laughing over the ghouls of past,over those infinitesimal small glistening buds,buds of success,drops of camouflaged failures,ores of scathed skeptical wins,wins so small but made so big in the self immolating refinery that made me believe that I stand as the witness and as the proof that a man can win,no matter how small he is,or how ugly he looks or rather most importantly how foolish he is.
All my life the figments I celebrated were of a supposed day when I would achieve what i have been yearning for.
All the seconds I checked the clocks just to check the clock to find the current time just to notice my success's presence.
Yes,to say I lost once again won't do much justice,but yes to analyse it over so as to abate failure's future pretense might do some good.
But,hasn't this been an often repeated ritual in a journey that I have ceremoniously followed,religiously accepted.

The only thing worth reiterating is the fact that you don't feel the low because of a rocket science gone bad but rather because of the fork that you placed wrong.
A doomed country as the aftermath of that failed rocket might not wake you,but yes the rigid faces on your dinner table might.
Yesterday was one of such days for me.
A wait so long came to an end.
I am a happy go lucky guy.
I get things quite easily,but those that I have got were never of that octane importance as others keep feeling for me.
But yes there was this one thing and there is still this one thing that I have wanted most of my life.
I had put in real hard work but with time failed to agree that yes,I am a notch lower in my brain's make than many with whom I thought to flag the crusade.
Somewhere,in the alley's nooks my brain itself made me forget it's limitations.
To dream high is very important but to stay grounded at the same time is even more important.
I know it went wrong but where,is a question I too am still contemplating.
After a tough time the barrage of emotions had piled to a height that were just a breakeven breather.
The small nail in the coffin that ravaged me with seething desperation came again as always,uncalled but omnipresent inside me.
I sometimes question myself-am I a fool,why am I stuck in things as small as finding addresses,locating the turns that I just crossed,remembering the names of people I just met,making the same maths question wrong that I did before half an hour.
And again the same situation encumbered me.
It was a already a day of dejection.
Results of major exams that I gave were out and I wasn't selected for any 1 good.
It meant only one thing-I have to do job again for one more year,job which I find boring,which I find doesn't understand my creative wings,stifles me morbidly not because it does but because I think it does.
With a heavy racking mind went to join the Big blue.
Was weak as had been ill since the past few days.
And then after a meeting for a new project and working on some initial onboarding details,planned to leave office.
The hopelessness had seeped from my mind to my body.
Was just finding the way I came to the 1st floor.
Saw the lift but wanted to catch the staircase,but as always my incessant queer brain made me feel impossible to spot the way I came up.
And then I saw a staircase with bar shaped gate.
In my previous company pressing the bar opened the gate and led me through the passage.
Thought same and pressed the bar,but here in IBM this was meant to be an emergency exit.
The moment I pressed the bar an alarm started resonating.
In a matter of seconds 10-20 people came rushing.Amidst the chaos a voice shot -"He is the one."
Questions were shot and all asked me why din't I just catch the same stairs by which I came.
The only answer that I mumbled was that I forgot the path.
With their horrified amazement set in my heavy heart I moved downstairs and this was the point that made me question myself-Why am I such a big fool?
That evening I walked to my home for quite long.
Heavy heart came seeping out through perceptive organs at varied intervals.
I was not celebrating my bigger failures that happen most of the times but the smaller direction disorientations that happen all the time.
Yesterday was one of the days when I felt quite low.
But I have reprimanded it today with a cheerful smile.

I am trying to re see things,re animate my mind,re correct the roads etched in my mind,re read the directions that I so wrongly analyse,accept the fact that I am happy that I felt so low yesterday.

Cause a man stands only after falling.
Whether yesterday's fall was strong enough or i still need a more substantial fall,the question is why wait,when the answer questions me to just run :)

~Harsha

With 3ww 
image source-visit the link to see artist's(12*7) creative work

hues

"Cyclone 'phyan' about to hit Mumbai."

Scrolled through the news and knew that it would surely hit my place too.
But right now the climate is pleasent.
A dark stretch of clouds has gobbled up the city.
I know deep down that I have never ever woke up to find such a lovely morning.

The hues are blurred and so is the mind.

From what my eye can see the whole horizon is painted with the quick hands of an artist who is so at ease but also so at hurry.
He initially plans to have the lovely shades from his glistening pastel colors.
But with quick strokes he makes it all look a bit of color stroked thru a camelhair tipped brush.
Thick at the start but lighter at the end.
But somehow in middle of the act he finds it awkward and he is replacing the blue clouds with uneasy strokes of mixed black while I look at awe and more in wonder the speed of his work.
Coloring has never been my forte and hence I refrain from giving him much suggestions although I prefer lesser delusions than myriad mixtures.
While he works I am chuckling at the wonderful wind blowing right through my hair.
Now how many times does it happen that on such a wonderful morn you are holding a superb cup of tea on the balcony of a 10th floor and that too completly immersed in nature.
I think and rethink that how on earth can climate be so wonderful.
Slowly it starts to rain.Its more of a drizzle.The aroma of raindrops combined with sand give me the most refreshing feeling ever.
I also understand know that why such season is the perfect time for copulation(pretty coarse:P).
Just to have a quick world view I come inside wade through my mails my study material and the numerous social sites and networks.
I switch on the TV for an instant:"Cyclone 'Phyan' wind's clocked at 90 km/hr and the winds are estimated to grow."
I switchoff the idiot box and enjoy the tremendous gush of wind pressing itself through the windows literally threatning to break the house.
Bah,social networking.Studies,humbug.
Just watching the best forms of nature playing the seduction dance.
I can myself feel the mystic intimacy of the winds and clouds right out of my window.
I very well know they wont approve me of watching them in their act and that too so deeply engrossed.
I want to take my eyes off but more the forbidden a thing is more beautiful it becomes.
I was still thinking was it a voyeurism I was enjoying or is it the wonderful nature.

And suddenly a fluttering pigeon almost misses my windw.
It somehow finds a hold and rests on my window sil.
With wings tattered and an expression that it has gone through hell doesn't bring any more happiness to my life.
I wait with my stifled breath cause I know even a single movement of mine would frighten the poor creature and its miniscule seconds of relief too would be eaten.
Suddenly,I see my friend enter the room.And before I can stop him the poor bird sensing danger flies away.
I can do nothing except see it fly into winds flowing with a rage of 90 km/hr.
I can see it going back to a place which was once its nest its home.
A place few hours back from where it left its kids to bring back food to feed the wide mouths.
Still knowing that death might strike it cause they do not need a meterological survey to tell them that a cyclone is about to hit.
But to feed its baby birds it goes into the wild daring 'Phyan' itself.
And I know if it goes back it would find its kids crushed under a tree and if not crushed then dead because of squeaking helplessly on the ground with water drowning them.
And all of this If it goes back at all..........
The climate which seemed so beautiful to me has such a monstrous side that I never ever could notice.
The fun,the pleasent weather that I was enjoying was the cause of floods at other's place.
The copulation that I was enjoying was destroying habitats,killing families,devouring lives.
How could I be so engrossed in my pleasures that I could never see the gory details etched otherwise.

Sadly,one last time I switch on the TV:
"Cyclone 'Phyan's course diverted from Mumbai,now heading towards Gujarat".

Does it matter anymore....


~Harsha

Should I stop asking...

How much more pain would we succumb to hear the first voice of glory.

When to end is more important than to keep continuing.
This is one important thing that I have not known till now.

A blotch in a relationship can be overlooked or rather let the whole relationship be a blotch.

When the evasive dreams should be evaded to see them convert into reality.

Dark hues are a part and parcel of the life or they are just colors of one mind.

How dirty is really dirty.

Can a lie today be said to abstain from saying a bigger lie tommorow.

Can sex be considered god.Is sex before marriage right.

When would we stop being religious fools.

When would people stop infanticide.

When would the pedophiles rest.

When would we not throw rubble on another person because of how we see him than what he is.

When would I wake up and feel-Yes,this was something that I had waited for my whole life.

When would I stop being in a self dilemma when I refuse to give alms to beggers but later help them at an NGO.

When would I feel balanced.

When would I be able to give back to society what I have got and does that include the negativity too.

When would I be able to make my parents proud.

When would I stop asking questions...

P.S:Not putting a question mark may be grammatically incorrect but putting one would have been morally wrong.

~Harsha

where is the flow dude

Inactivity is the crux of idleness or rather they are cyclic.
On a day when I can type a thousand mails have a hundred words and swear million swears,not writing doesnt sound right.
I should and must write cause it is something that gives me pleasure.
I don't want to sound utilitarian but still pleasure to mind is rather what keeps our mind healthy.
Wishing to be a great writer doesnt mean just seeing the great writer in you.
It also means bringing him out.
So, I must at least pen down at times or the passion myt be burnt somewhere.(Atleast that hasn't happened till now but who knows ).
One transformation I have noticed through these times of inactivity.
Initially the thing that very much  kept me writing was accolades too.
May it be in any form:-comments,followers,mentions.
I know it is sad as well as bad.
But thankfully I have passed these phases,now I stand at a place where what matters to me is freeing myself and hence thats the reason I would write from now on.
i dunno whether I wud b writing things as polished as before but yes I would be writing.
Hey m relieved and yes I am :)
PS:-And yes there are special friends whose remembering me rekindles the fire.
U knw it ryt:)

~Harsha

drought

My land so fallow

my heart so hollow

every year I look up

to find clouds,

come which never would

and then I turn around

to see

seeds I sowed

weeds I mowed

mouths I created

hopes I shattered

I have reached my limit

with the end of my wit

I have killed my desire

pushing my life to prespire

But not a tinge of green

not a drop of growth

not a drop of water

not a hope of life

Cant see the pain

my only bequeath

Cant feed my family

my only owning fully

I plan to die

to kill the rent

Before that,

I plan to cry

my one last try

So,I stretch my vocals

to curse the gods

But words too now

have just gone fallow

My land so fallow

my heart so hollow

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A sad state of a farmer,who even after putting all his efforts can only plan the way of his death.

He is still thinking,better to die before the natural death,considering a suicide,being free from the landlord's rents,misery.Plotting to die so that he would not have to see himself and his family dying every single day because of the lack of food and life.Or rather waiting a little more to reach his natural death slowly

 while death eats him.

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Sadly,still a large part of Indian farming is at the mercy of the eccentric erratic rains.

Written for 3ww-Fallow,limit,vocal

Image source