Biography of Hardik Vaidya
The geography of my biography is under constant creation and erosion. Geography gives way to geology. Sedimentary rocks of my life on being chiseled reveal fossils, Dinosaurs come alive. Out crops the world of ferns, where no flowers bloomed because none had evolved. Soon jumps life from the oceans to land, it stops crawling starts running, stops running starts walking, learns the power of erection. Learns the power of the gift of the gab. Learns to cultivate opinions. Plant ideas. Grow civilisations. In this whole saga my biography is a small scratch on the reed of papyrus.
Hardik Vaidya's Works:
People with such biography don't get publishers soon. Then the publishers have to wait.
Hardik Vaidya Poems
Dignity Of A Better Lover A Poem In Bang...
Akhono muhorito praan Amaar Tor boshonter paagol dibha raatree shomaan, Mor ontorer Aakash, paataal Dujone sourobhito tor gourobe opaar
Ram Navami - Birthday Of Lord Ram
He (oh) Ram, He (oh) Ram, He (oh) Ram. Son of three mothers. Kaushalya, Sumitra, Kaykayi. Son of King Dashratha.
Saptapadee - Gujarati Poem - English Tra...
Dariyaa ne kinaare nadee samee, Halave halave, vahyaan taa kadee. Taraa, ane maraa pagalaaonee, Aaa saptapadee,
What if we outsource the election procedure? We want no rules broken, all as per the democratic legislature. All equipment needs to be designed and made in Germany, All the software needs to be back ended from the States,
Ichha / Khwaahish / Wish - Hindi Poem - ...
Khwaahish kaa kyaa jataa hai? Uskaa kyaa thaa, jo use khonaa hai? Is Holi, Tumhaaree hathelee par,
Shudhu Ektee Chooan / Just One Touch - B...
Shudhu Ekta choaan. Sporsher noy, Choker dutee tor, Unmaadonaar bhoraa,
Run because there is a run in you. Run before you turn sane. Run before you loose the opportunity of madness. Run till you find time standing still,
When I was a child, I did not know what's a discount. I never asked for much, because I waited for my own pound. Then I took a profession, they call it a sales hound. I sold to people stallions, who they always wanted to mount.
In one single word, I have to define. It is not easy, but to strive is my kind. To give up, is not in my blood, To rest on my haunches is not what gives me trust.
Let's Bin The Cliche On Womens Day
It is time to bin an old cliché. Behind every successful man is a woman. In front of every fulfilled man is a woman. It is time to evolve the new cliché.
1 2 3 4 New Nursery Rhym...
1 2 3 4 Customers always want more. 1 2 3 4 Customers always make your ulcer sore.
Of The People, For The People And By The...
Where are the people? Of course you haven't forgotten them, Certainly they exist, Dear God not on news papers ink,
We are farmers, we agree to culture. Farming opportunities in deserts, Through the windmills of our efforts. We trap the sun in our eyes,
How big is the sea around me, Says the gold fish swimming around in the glass bowl. Why is it that I only see me and me every small step alone? There must be some problem,
You Have Arrived.
You have arrived:
When the tweet within, leaps out.
Peeks through every face, of every book, of the book of all books.
Through all words, alphabets, punctuation's, and full stops.
When the spaces between the words tweet and reek of you.
When the musk in the deer, is the deer in the musk.
When your tweet echoes across time, across space.
When your tweet bends light, when your tweet sears through tears of time.