Why am I not curious anymore.
I know not to be curious means not to have the desire to live.
But still if people had not been curious of the apple falling,or the earth moving or the fire burning,things would have never ever moved on.
But still am not curious nowadays.
Am anchored in my thoughts for actions that never burn.
Sadly,its not only me but a lot of prototypes I see everyday have lost the nerve of being curious.
Look at yourself,how many times do you actually stop at a construction site to see how the crane works.
Or how many times are you actually curious to read about that author's roots.
Or how many times you have actually felt to call the maitre d' of the hotel and ask him how he has cooked the food.
Not being curious is like going into an unstated limbo.
Is it either that we know that,we know all or is it the shame that moves with the act of being curious that is to ask.
Let's all not be duds.
We have got to accept that we don't know everything.
And there is no harming in trying to know.
To live is to be curious.
Life is just all about being curious,
about why we perform why we don't
about why we love why we don't
about how the sun sets how seasons won't.
Remember curiosity never killed the cat it was just that the cat committed suicide as it had nothing to do.
See,am curious what you people think:)
~Harsha
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Dude,that's what exactly am made for
Social media,bah humbug.
Thats what I should blurt out.
But I too am one of the addicts out there.
But this media is the place that has been throwing quite a few stark realisations straight on my face since a long time.
I am not being me or basically am not being what I intend to be but rather what I succumb to be.
The whole profile pages,the albums,the wall to wall talks are all showing me people who are finally giving way to eccentrities.
There are people who are going on the craziest of the trips.
There are my very own friends who have been embarking on the most bizarre professions that I had dreamed of,
or more properly felt in awe of.
When I turn my neck around I see people who are going to become lawyers,cinematographers,chefs and even many who are at home.
Somewhere today i am feeling that I am very soon turning into that cribbing regular man who cribs, spathes himself again and again in a glorified crying.
i tend to innovate caricatured excuses of job,of studies and n more alibis every other day.
But every day I know deep down that dude you had to be there.
Look at the sun rising from the peak's tip,look at the concoction that he just made,look at the awesome video she just made,Dude I had to be there.
But the biggest question that stands straight is why then am here.
I too want to be happy,clicking pics in places where I yearn to be.
i too want to be bubbling with a euphoria where I would be proud to say taht :look dude I belong here.
This is what i wanted to do all my life.
Then where am I going wrong.
Let me see what I actually want to do.
First is to write,write endlessly,maybe just a letter or maybe a novel,maybe for my solace or maybe for the world's pensieve.
So what is stopping me.
Me and me alone.
Am I stuck in a priority quagmire which is eating me and me trying to eat it almost at the same time.
Cause I have got excuses ready.
I want to do that bloody MBA since I dont know when.I am so vexed at times that it seems even stupid to put it in writing a crime.
And whats stopping me now.Thats me again.
This I say cause it is the only respite for me.
But then there is the acting bug which is there or not or well maybe ummmmm....
Whatever atleast the bug of living shouldn't die.
Maybe one day I would meet you all and say:
"Dude,that's what exactly am made for:)"
~Harsha
Thats what I should blurt out.
But I too am one of the addicts out there.
But this media is the place that has been throwing quite a few stark realisations straight on my face since a long time.
I am not being me or basically am not being what I intend to be but rather what I succumb to be.
The whole profile pages,the albums,the wall to wall talks are all showing me people who are finally giving way to eccentrities.
There are people who are going on the craziest of the trips.
There are my very own friends who have been embarking on the most bizarre professions that I had dreamed of,
or more properly felt in awe of.
When I turn my neck around I see people who are going to become lawyers,cinematographers,chefs and even many who are at home.
Somewhere today i am feeling that I am very soon turning into that cribbing regular man who cribs, spathes himself again and again in a glorified crying.
i tend to innovate caricatured excuses of job,of studies and n more alibis every other day.
But every day I know deep down that dude you had to be there.
Look at the sun rising from the peak's tip,look at the concoction that he just made,look at the awesome video she just made,Dude I had to be there.
But the biggest question that stands straight is why then am here.
I too want to be happy,clicking pics in places where I yearn to be.
i too want to be bubbling with a euphoria where I would be proud to say taht :look dude I belong here.
This is what i wanted to do all my life.
Then where am I going wrong.
Let me see what I actually want to do.
First is to write,write endlessly,maybe just a letter or maybe a novel,maybe for my solace or maybe for the world's pensieve.
So what is stopping me.
Me and me alone.
Am I stuck in a priority quagmire which is eating me and me trying to eat it almost at the same time.
Cause I have got excuses ready.
I want to do that bloody MBA since I dont know when.I am so vexed at times that it seems even stupid to put it in writing a crime.
And whats stopping me now.Thats me again.
This I say cause it is the only respite for me.
But then there is the acting bug which is there or not or well maybe ummmmm....
Whatever atleast the bug of living shouldn't die.
Maybe one day I would meet you all and say:
"Dude,that's what exactly am made for:)"
~Harsha
Monday, October 11, 2010
Divide and fool
This story dates long back,back,back and enough of back.
Its a time when we actually cared for some things and people could easily see the potential of our care and use it in a lot of constructive work.
But this construction only helped them which was something that we later realized.
This story dates back to a time when we have seen our very own neighbours behaving a bit weird,eccentric due to some issues of as they say higher importance.
Its about the time of a pressure cooker world(although its still the same),but yet at that time the pressure was always ready to explode,hissing all the time with an anger that seethed since ages.
And believe me there was a time when after demolishing something of grave importance when you went back to your town you were treated like a swatantra sainani(freedom fighters) to the grades of Bhagat Singh or Chandrashekhar azad.
Well enough of the times,hoping at the same time that time never returns back.
So, at that time there cropped up an issue of a house,of a cake so common to all people but divided by lines not of flavours but of vengeance,vengeance sown by people who had no place whatsoever in that house,who had no share whatsoever in that cake but then there was a bigger reason.
These people had a big big cow.Lets call it the holy cow.
They just wanted to milk that cow.
They called that cow- INDIA, with love.
So all they wanted was some fodder to feed the cow,just some safe fodder.
And people of those times could even stake their own lives just so that the cow could have its say.
Sadly the fodder got all eaten by the men themselves.
The cow has shrivelled up to the size of a retarded goat.
And the only instances when we hear about the cow is when photos of tidy rooms come in national dailies for some stupid local games with ' articulate beautiful designer dog leg blankets' or of creative pan stein walls.
I still am unable to understand why the kangaroo land people are all praises for those dragon owners. Instead of appreciating the beauty of our designs they make faces,ridiculing at the marvels that won't ever be found at any other place on earth.
And now isn't it the best games village we could ever give.
Now small bits of wrongs and rights are always there.
Now take this even if someone comes to visit your house these small things always stay,don't they.
Like dog stained blankets and pan coloured walls.Isn't it common :)
Add to this we have epitomised the way judgement happening in this country with god himself being one of the petitioners.
Our cow has come of age now.
Sadly one of its calves got divided into 3.But then that was a fair judgment based on facts after all.
But even if it is who cares.
Why to draw lines on places when we all are the same.
Even now we can all come up mutually for places that are common to all.
I understand the angst that we had this place so we will have it back.
We ruled it once so we would rule it again.
But when would we absolve our generations from a hell which they would never want.
What we all need too understand that lines once drawn would only get deeper.
The cake has been divided.
The essence now lies with us that how good these pastries could be aligned so that we all can mutually eat together.
May the pressure just wane out of this cooker.
To the cow:)
~Harsha
Its a time when we actually cared for some things and people could easily see the potential of our care and use it in a lot of constructive work.
But this construction only helped them which was something that we later realized.
This story dates back to a time when we have seen our very own neighbours behaving a bit weird,eccentric due to some issues of as they say higher importance.
Its about the time of a pressure cooker world(although its still the same),but yet at that time the pressure was always ready to explode,hissing all the time with an anger that seethed since ages.
And believe me there was a time when after demolishing something of grave importance when you went back to your town you were treated like a swatantra sainani(freedom fighters) to the grades of Bhagat Singh or Chandrashekhar azad.
Well enough of the times,hoping at the same time that time never returns back.
So, at that time there cropped up an issue of a house,of a cake so common to all people but divided by lines not of flavours but of vengeance,vengeance sown by people who had no place whatsoever in that house,who had no share whatsoever in that cake but then there was a bigger reason.
These people had a big big cow.Lets call it the holy cow.
They just wanted to milk that cow.
They called that cow- INDIA, with love.
So all they wanted was some fodder to feed the cow,just some safe fodder.
And people of those times could even stake their own lives just so that the cow could have its say.
Sadly the fodder got all eaten by the men themselves.
The cow has shrivelled up to the size of a retarded goat.
And the only instances when we hear about the cow is when photos of tidy rooms come in national dailies for some stupid local games with ' articulate beautiful designer dog leg blankets' or of creative pan stein walls.
I still am unable to understand why the kangaroo land people are all praises for those dragon owners. Instead of appreciating the beauty of our designs they make faces,ridiculing at the marvels that won't ever be found at any other place on earth.
And now isn't it the best games village we could ever give.
Now small bits of wrongs and rights are always there.
Now take this even if someone comes to visit your house these small things always stay,don't they.
Like dog stained blankets and pan coloured walls.Isn't it common :)
Add to this we have epitomised the way judgement happening in this country with god himself being one of the petitioners.
Our cow has come of age now.
Sadly one of its calves got divided into 3.But then that was a fair judgment based on facts after all.
But even if it is who cares.
Why to draw lines on places when we all are the same.
Even now we can all come up mutually for places that are common to all.
I understand the angst that we had this place so we will have it back.
We ruled it once so we would rule it again.
But when would we absolve our generations from a hell which they would never want.
What we all need too understand that lines once drawn would only get deeper.
The cake has been divided.
The essence now lies with us that how good these pastries could be aligned so that we all can mutually eat together.
May the pressure just wane out of this cooker.
To the cow:)
~Harsha
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Determination
As I stretch my hand
My blades hurt
I scamper to a rescue
but my veins thrust
I pull whats all within
and let out one last cry
with sweat in my eyes
and blood in breath
I yearn to instigate everything
that has not turned death
The silence tickles
as if insane
The time trickles
as if it would never wane
But there I see the hourglass
Losing all the sand
There I see my life
losing all that could be grand
I had promised myself
that I would hold that time
I had promised myself
that I would fight this time
So,one last time
I stretch my hand
My blades hurt
And ah,
I hold the time.
------------------------------------------------
Written for Magpie Tales
~Harsha
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
A hollow body
Don't make me feel offended.
Said he looking straight into his stark naked being in the mirror.
Days have passed and I have lost my demure,he thought.
He thought of the days when people would envy him of his gaunt body, of the flawless structure.
But a major accident had left most of his lower chin disfigured.
This combined with a powerful malignant liver disease had killed his appetite and love for food.
And finally the loss of his wife had left whatever desire he had for life.
Today while coming back from the graveyard the empty house and his hollow body were his only belongings.
A shining blade in all its glaze was looking at him.
Smiling as if hungry for his blood,for his life.
It was just ready to cut his veins with a slash of his fist,to put to silence the last jargon of a body that clinkered heavily with the drops of water seeping from the tap.
With high hopes and crumpled beliefs,he was ready to end the pain,pain of living.
The blade glistened in his hands,at the tip of a murderer who was a saint at the same time.
A last slash waited and just then over the shelf shone the lone hairclip of his wife.
And for the last moments before death he saw her,felt her and thought of every single moment they ever had.
And remembered the belief she had in him,in his disfigured face in his shrivelled appetite,in her volatile life.
That was the moment when the blade fell down and the spark to live returned back.
His eyes now glistned back for their love they shared.
Then he felt that killing himself now would mean killing all the wonderful memories he ever had of his loving wife.It would mean ending all the moments where he can still feel happy cause he had a wonderful life once.
The naked body was not naked anymore.the disfigured face was beautiful now cause it had the beautiful lines that had aged with his love for her.
Suddenly he headed to the kitchen to subside his craving for a wholesome dinner.
~Harsha
Said he looking straight into his stark naked being in the mirror.
Days have passed and I have lost my demure,he thought.
He thought of the days when people would envy him of his gaunt body, of the flawless structure.
But a major accident had left most of his lower chin disfigured.
This combined with a powerful malignant liver disease had killed his appetite and love for food.
And finally the loss of his wife had left whatever desire he had for life.
Today while coming back from the graveyard the empty house and his hollow body were his only belongings.
A shining blade in all its glaze was looking at him.
Smiling as if hungry for his blood,for his life.
It was just ready to cut his veins with a slash of his fist,to put to silence the last jargon of a body that clinkered heavily with the drops of water seeping from the tap.
With high hopes and crumpled beliefs,he was ready to end the pain,pain of living.
The blade glistened in his hands,at the tip of a murderer who was a saint at the same time.
A last slash waited and just then over the shelf shone the lone hairclip of his wife.
And for the last moments before death he saw her,felt her and thought of every single moment they ever had.
And remembered the belief she had in him,in his disfigured face in his shrivelled appetite,in her volatile life.
That was the moment when the blade fell down and the spark to live returned back.
His eyes now glistned back for their love they shared.
Then he felt that killing himself now would mean killing all the wonderful memories he ever had of his loving wife.It would mean ending all the moments where he can still feel happy cause he had a wonderful life once.
The naked body was not naked anymore.the disfigured face was beautiful now cause it had the beautiful lines that had aged with his love for her.
Suddenly he headed to the kitchen to subside his craving for a wholesome dinner.
~Harsha
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Faith-just be there for some more time
The word itself goes into immense grueling by the very person who posses them.
What is faith?
Is it the belief in the god whom we have never seen.
Or is it the belief in that religious guru or that holy man who promises a way to god
but the very next day his sex tape emerges as the most watched video on you tube.
Or faith is that political group which on the ground of its faith destroys a mosque
just to uphold the faith which is its basis.
Or faith is that veil that lets us do any evil,cover all the sins taken and done in the name of god.
What is faith then.
Is it the belief that yes we have our family always there for us even at the dark of night.
Or is it the education that we underwent which would be our weapon even at the dim
of recession.
Faith is subjective and that too very very subjective.
Do I have faith??
Yes,I have.
I have the faith that when I would lie in shambles,distressed distraught then it won't be the god
who would come to hlp me.
Neither would it be one of the groups busy in breaking another church nor the holy people.
It would be me and me alone who would be the last man standing for me.
Then why should I search faith in every obscured vision,in every kaput government,in every lost
syllable.
I agree that yes my faith got skewed at times,afraid at moments but happily it is still there.
I have found my faith.
Wish the same for all of you.
~Harsha
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Image courtsey:batman_by_anima_parilis
Check this for more about the artist: http://fav.me/ddblca
Saturday, August 28, 2010
aghaz
Dhad dadate hue kadmo se
taptapati hui nazro se
Saans ki lagam ka aghaz ho hi chuka tha
Sard dopahri me
andheri rat me
ye paigam bas bik hi chuka tha
Ek jeet thi woh
aur ek har hai yeh
kar raha hu taiyari
ab na hosh na khumari
hai agar to sirf ek darr
hona chahie tha jaha junoon
par pata hai mujhe ki fir se
mei banunga sher
ithlate hue mausam ka
karunga ek sir pair
Bade hue darr ko
mei hi karunga dher
kehlaunga gair
ya kehlaunga ek apna
chilaega mera akrosh
aur dabega mera darr
jab fir se ek bar
mei kasunga apni kamar
kamar us ant k lie
jiski shuruat bhi
aur ant bhi
likhunga bas mei
~Harsha
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Image courtsey:fearless by Pandarice
check this link for more of his work:http://pandarice.deviantart.com/art/fearless-32838883#
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Conquered
The world is a stage
Interesting hmm
