Hardik Vaidya [http://hardikvaidya.blogspot.in] (26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)
Poems of Hardik Vaidya
|401.||The Value of Pi 22/7||2/26/2013|
|402.||The wheels keep turning||3/14/2013|
|403.||The Woman In The Ferrari||2/8/2013|
|404.||The Work of your life.||3/18/2013|
|405.||This kind of colorless day also arrived.||4/1/2013|
|407.||Time and its tails||1/19/2014|
|408.||Time To Part||3/2/2013|
|410.||To a lady who has a name which I cannot take.||3/17/2013|
|411.||To All The Sales Folks Who Worked Under Me||3/1/2013|
|412.||To appreciate beauty||4/12/2013|
|413.||To be silent for a while||3/10/2013|
|414.||To cowards with love||3/21/2013|
|415.||To hell with HIM, to be with you.||2/24/2013|
|416.||To love eternal||2/21/2013|
|417.||To my dads compliment on face book||2/26/2013|
|418.||To My Diva From Dehradun||2/25/2013|
|419.||To my Moslem Brothers||2/23/2013|
|420.||To My Sikh Brothers - An Indian Apology||5/1/2013|
Barbarism is the child of man not woman.
It dies a dogs death every second, when the kind awakens in men.
The pangs of labor are not unknown. They are nightmares, holocausts.
Man before being kind is stupid. To be stupid is manly to be kind is men.
Temples, churches, mosques have been defiled, idols smashed, books burned.
Ideas imprisoned, thoughts buried, minds muffled, voices muzzled.
Heads have been rolled, blood has been let from veins for vain, with mirth.
Free has been the ethic of