Sagar Venkateshwar's Blog
April 17, 2019
I Know The Moon Is Not Mine
I know the moon is not mine
When I am alone looking up in the night
Longing and wishing for more time
Under all the stars that do not shineI stand removed from horizon’s line
In the infinite pool of the essence of the night
Trying to understand the path of mind
I know the moon is not mineI ponder greatness, wonders, and signs
In this perfect moment of quiet and right
Between the dark and the first light
Under all the stars that do not shineI see the floating eternal design
Again and again, it will blow my mind
Till the time when I am a wight
I know the moon is not mineI see the beauty, I will not malign
By claiming ownership of the infinite
that does not listen even to the night
Under all the stars that do not shineIn moments connecting with the divine
In this ephemeral state, I feel true delight
Under all the stars that soon will shine
I will still not say the moon is mine–Rishabh DagaAbout The Poet: The poet lives in the intersection of Words, People, Philosophy, Chess and Chaos. His favorite book is The Name of the wind, the favorite opening is Sicilian and the favorite quote is by Anais Nin — ‘We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.
November 11, 2018
Referee
Beyond the sea,
Lies the power key,
To the golden tree,
With the wisdom spree,
Barely containing the glee,
Putting shame to the bumblebee,
Worshipping the three,
In a ferocious degree,
Accord with the divine decree,
Amongst the emotional debris,
Collecting a heavy fee,
Down on a knee,
Only conscience as the referee!!
Lies the power key,
To the golden tree,
With the wisdom spree,
Barely containing the glee,
Putting shame to the bumblebee,
Worshipping the three,
In a ferocious degree,
Accord with the divine decree,
Amongst the emotional debris,
Collecting a heavy fee,
Down on a knee,
Only conscience as the referee!!
April 25, 2018
Write Up Contest (Special Mention) - HOLD ON
Presenting one of the "special mention" entries to the Doodle Diaries Write Up Contest on the below doodle as the theme.
HOLD ON
-Divyanshu Shahi
There are two ways to live Life, as has always been told;To strive for what you want, or settle down with what's in hold;If choosing to fight, remember there is always darkness before dawn !Even in the darkest times - Hold On, for the light is yet not gone !
The fight might require you to surrender all that you have;Your strength will be tested in all possible ways - be brave !Don't let the adversities break you - collect yourself, come on !Remember to hold on, for the light is yet not gone !
In the dark times of struggle, let your virtues be the candle;Make your skills the weapon, for the difficulties you are to handle;All you need is just a flame of confidence, to keep the journey on;Don't give up - Hold on, for the light is yet not gone !
People say, only those reach destinations who can lose sight of shore;Each time you face a failure, strike back with your efforts little more;Remember the darkness is at its peak, just before the dawn;Always remember to hold on, for the light is yet not gone !
Do let us know what do you think in comments!Follow us :Instagram – Doodle DiariesFacebook – Doodle Diaires
April 23, 2018
Write Up Contest Winner 2 - The Midnight Light
Presenting one of the winning entries to the Doodle Diaries Write Up Contest on the below doodle as the theme.
THE MIDNIGHT LIGHT
-Bhaskar Sharan
It was the December of the very year I arrived in this town. Nothing has changed much since then except the recurring dreams that never let me leave the place. When I arrived , I was the typical struggling artist. Broke , observant and definitely in need for a place to call home. I scrounged through the newspaper classified section, for a couple of days while staying at a chawl with very meagre rent . But believe them who say that finding the right house in the city can take a whole lifetime. And after weeks of soul searching, I finally found it.It was a quiet locality. A proper residential area with well built houses on both sides of aisle. The house was not too big but definitely not small. Built in probably the old style of architecture, there was a backyard space and the building was two storeyed. The walls were freshly varnished and I had a feeling that the house was being let out for the first time. I immediately liked the place and decided on doing anything to get it. I went inside and knocked at the door. An old man came along with his wife and greeted me with a grin at the doorstep.A couple of minutes later I was walking back along the way I came. The couple had agreed. It wasn’t a battle either. The rent was surprisingly within my budget. They were probably letting the place only for company. They had no one other than themselves, they said ,and company was all their concern. Feeling amazingly lucky, I took the offer. Little did I know that it something so seemingly insignificant, would become a turning point in my life.It was already 4 months in my new house and I had become quite comfortable in the locality. I had a good relationship with my landlords and now life was back to seeking inspirations for my artwork. In that front, I wasn’t doing very well. There was a contract I had wanted to set up with my dream company, but when I showed them my portfolio, I was outrightly rejected. I was depressed. My savings were over and I was practically earning nothing. I didn’t even have next month rent for the old couple. I was trying to keep my calm but I couldn’t. I began getting sleepless nights. I suffered from insomnia. But, maybe it was all for the best, for a late night incident was about to change my life.Insomnia, yes, but that day it wasn’t the insomnia but the heat that would not let me sleep. It must be around 45 degrees and the heat was almost unbearable. To top the heat our neighbourhood was experiencing load shedding and for some surely malicious reasons the municipality people decided to give power cuts to our area at midnight. I was strolling in the balcony outside my room to keep my mind from the heat and to get the little air I could, though basically there wasn’t any. I was walking in that darkness looking at the moon. It was a full moon day. The scene reminded of my childhood days when I used to play in my father’s farm. I gazed at the moon. I didn’t realise how and when I feel into a stupor. I saw myself as a child running in through my farm in the moonlight, my father asked me to stay close to the house but I didn’t listen. I kept running and running through the hay until I felt someone grab me by the shoulder.I awoke from my stupor the next moment, and for some reason my gaze wasn’t towards the moon now . Exactly in front of my eyes was a house with a large window. It was the house opposite to mine across the road. I could see through the pane and saw a candle shining brightly in the middle of the room. The candle also put light on something which at first I couldn’t make out. It was something very beautiful and sparkled brilliantly in candle light. Then almost by magic, I saw a lady’s silhouette appear through the window. Clad in what seemed like a saree the figure kept staring at the candle. The whole scene gave me chills and I kept looking at the lady. Strangely the figure kept looking at the candle like a statue. I waited and waited but the figure did not budge. It was queer but being the insomniac I was, I decided not to give up. I waited and waited but nothing budged in that setting.At last it was the candle which gave up and everything went dark after that. It was strange to me. The lady and her midnightghostly stupor. Was she sleepwalking? At first I dismissed it as something unexplicable. I mean, I had my own worries and stuff and who has time for investigating about other people? But when I saw it happen another day I realised it was a daily activity. One day I decided that I will get to the crux of this matter. Being young and an artist, my interest was piqued. So I decide to do something the other day.In the morning, I crept inside the premises of the house to find a lady watering the plants, in a saree. I thought “Yes! This is the woman I see everyday.” Her maid was standing beside her. I made myself visible to them and approached them. I was welcomed with a smile . The warmth of the smile enhanced my guts and I introduced myself by telling them I was a tenant in the opposite house. My curiosity and incorrigible straightforwardness spurted out, “I see you everyday at about 1 o’clock with a candle.” Spurting out did give me sense of relief but the woman had turned pale. I immediately realised that I had spoken something that I shouldn’t have had, but the damage was already done. The woman ran inside her house and I was left with embarrassment and regret. The maid gave me pitiful look and said “She is the bravest woman I know.”I was regretting my actions in my room but more than that, my curiosity had grown. What was this secret? I had to know.The next day I saw the same woman leaving in a school bus. Probably she taught at a school. I could see the students screaming in joy when she entered the bus. This, sure was a great lady.I had buried the incident at the back of my mind because frankly I was not going anywhere with my detective abilities and I sure wasn’t great at connecting the dots. Time passed and I continued finding the lady staring at that candle past midnight each and every day. I realised that she appeared exactly at 1:10 am and stood like a sculpture till the candle lasted. I saw the candle gleam everyday with the woman standing still as a statue. Apart from arousing one’s curiosity, the scene was terribly beautiful. I say terribly because something about the whole scene was tragic. I was inspired enough to create an artpiece out of this. Strangely, for some reason I didn’t.Then one day, as I was passing through my street the old man of the house sprang up a conversation with me. The usual stuff basically, which I wanted to ignore because I was in a hurry. He was kind but I had work. I could figure that he had initiated the small talk due to his loneliness. He sensed my hurry and said that if I ever bothered, he wasn’t the worst coffee maker in the world. I thought. Here was a nice man offering coffee and I wasn’t even being polite enough to alleviate his loneliness. I budged, while reminding myself that an entry into this mysterious house may relieve my long and painful curiosity that I had pushed to the back of my mind with difficulty.I followed him inside the house. It was quite big. The sitting area was beautiful. Among the many things, my gaze fell on the showpiece area. There, at a place made in the wall specifically for the purpose were almost a dozen shields and trophies. It was unusual. I had seen such collections before and even had a small share of them myself but this was grander than I had ever seen. I went closer and realised that these were army given prizes. This place indeed housed brave people!I asked the old man if he was the proud owner of them. His face fell. Somehow in a few moments it turned into the face of the most sorrowful man on the Earth. He said “No. It is my son’s. We lost him in the Pathankot Air Force Station attack.” I felt embarrassed at asking something so personal and blurted immediately that I was sorry for his loss. Then I saw something I had been seeing for a long time.Right in the middle of the wall was a photo frame that was one of its kind. It was the most beautiful thing in the house and certainly the most beautiful one I had ever seen. There was a circular frame for the photo, which was empty for some strange reason and from the frame radiated a number of beautifully carved rays that had bits of glasses lodged in them. The light scattered brilliantly through them and lit the whole room. It definitely was a personalised item. Not loosely sold, I realised. Then, my gaze fell to the table in front of the wall. Lying on the table top was melted wax.Suddenly, it all came to me.That night, I slept even less. I wanted to pick up the canvas and splatter all the colours. But I couldn’t. Something stopped me. I went to the balcony at 1:10 am to find the woman standing there again. As the candle burned completely I watched her. At the end she gave a salute. The one filled with pure love and respect. I burst into tears. I looked up at the full moon. It was beautiful. I kept staring.~~THE END~~Do let us know what do you think in comments!Follow us :Instagram – Doodle DiariesFacebook – Doodle Diaires
THE MIDNIGHT LIGHT
-Bhaskar Sharan
It was the December of the very year I arrived in this town. Nothing has changed much since then except the recurring dreams that never let me leave the place. When I arrived , I was the typical struggling artist. Broke , observant and definitely in need for a place to call home. I scrounged through the newspaper classified section, for a couple of days while staying at a chawl with very meagre rent . But believe them who say that finding the right house in the city can take a whole lifetime. And after weeks of soul searching, I finally found it.It was a quiet locality. A proper residential area with well built houses on both sides of aisle. The house was not too big but definitely not small. Built in probably the old style of architecture, there was a backyard space and the building was two storeyed. The walls were freshly varnished and I had a feeling that the house was being let out for the first time. I immediately liked the place and decided on doing anything to get it. I went inside and knocked at the door. An old man came along with his wife and greeted me with a grin at the doorstep.A couple of minutes later I was walking back along the way I came. The couple had agreed. It wasn’t a battle either. The rent was surprisingly within my budget. They were probably letting the place only for company. They had no one other than themselves, they said ,and company was all their concern. Feeling amazingly lucky, I took the offer. Little did I know that it something so seemingly insignificant, would become a turning point in my life.It was already 4 months in my new house and I had become quite comfortable in the locality. I had a good relationship with my landlords and now life was back to seeking inspirations for my artwork. In that front, I wasn’t doing very well. There was a contract I had wanted to set up with my dream company, but when I showed them my portfolio, I was outrightly rejected. I was depressed. My savings were over and I was practically earning nothing. I didn’t even have next month rent for the old couple. I was trying to keep my calm but I couldn’t. I began getting sleepless nights. I suffered from insomnia. But, maybe it was all for the best, for a late night incident was about to change my life.Insomnia, yes, but that day it wasn’t the insomnia but the heat that would not let me sleep. It must be around 45 degrees and the heat was almost unbearable. To top the heat our neighbourhood was experiencing load shedding and for some surely malicious reasons the municipality people decided to give power cuts to our area at midnight. I was strolling in the balcony outside my room to keep my mind from the heat and to get the little air I could, though basically there wasn’t any. I was walking in that darkness looking at the moon. It was a full moon day. The scene reminded of my childhood days when I used to play in my father’s farm. I gazed at the moon. I didn’t realise how and when I feel into a stupor. I saw myself as a child running in through my farm in the moonlight, my father asked me to stay close to the house but I didn’t listen. I kept running and running through the hay until I felt someone grab me by the shoulder.I awoke from my stupor the next moment, and for some reason my gaze wasn’t towards the moon now . Exactly in front of my eyes was a house with a large window. It was the house opposite to mine across the road. I could see through the pane and saw a candle shining brightly in the middle of the room. The candle also put light on something which at first I couldn’t make out. It was something very beautiful and sparkled brilliantly in candle light. Then almost by magic, I saw a lady’s silhouette appear through the window. Clad in what seemed like a saree the figure kept staring at the candle. The whole scene gave me chills and I kept looking at the lady. Strangely the figure kept looking at the candle like a statue. I waited and waited but the figure did not budge. It was queer but being the insomniac I was, I decided not to give up. I waited and waited but nothing budged in that setting.At last it was the candle which gave up and everything went dark after that. It was strange to me. The lady and her midnightghostly stupor. Was she sleepwalking? At first I dismissed it as something unexplicable. I mean, I had my own worries and stuff and who has time for investigating about other people? But when I saw it happen another day I realised it was a daily activity. One day I decided that I will get to the crux of this matter. Being young and an artist, my interest was piqued. So I decide to do something the other day.In the morning, I crept inside the premises of the house to find a lady watering the plants, in a saree. I thought “Yes! This is the woman I see everyday.” Her maid was standing beside her. I made myself visible to them and approached them. I was welcomed with a smile . The warmth of the smile enhanced my guts and I introduced myself by telling them I was a tenant in the opposite house. My curiosity and incorrigible straightforwardness spurted out, “I see you everyday at about 1 o’clock with a candle.” Spurting out did give me sense of relief but the woman had turned pale. I immediately realised that I had spoken something that I shouldn’t have had, but the damage was already done. The woman ran inside her house and I was left with embarrassment and regret. The maid gave me pitiful look and said “She is the bravest woman I know.”I was regretting my actions in my room but more than that, my curiosity had grown. What was this secret? I had to know.The next day I saw the same woman leaving in a school bus. Probably she taught at a school. I could see the students screaming in joy when she entered the bus. This, sure was a great lady.I had buried the incident at the back of my mind because frankly I was not going anywhere with my detective abilities and I sure wasn’t great at connecting the dots. Time passed and I continued finding the lady staring at that candle past midnight each and every day. I realised that she appeared exactly at 1:10 am and stood like a sculpture till the candle lasted. I saw the candle gleam everyday with the woman standing still as a statue. Apart from arousing one’s curiosity, the scene was terribly beautiful. I say terribly because something about the whole scene was tragic. I was inspired enough to create an artpiece out of this. Strangely, for some reason I didn’t.Then one day, as I was passing through my street the old man of the house sprang up a conversation with me. The usual stuff basically, which I wanted to ignore because I was in a hurry. He was kind but I had work. I could figure that he had initiated the small talk due to his loneliness. He sensed my hurry and said that if I ever bothered, he wasn’t the worst coffee maker in the world. I thought. Here was a nice man offering coffee and I wasn’t even being polite enough to alleviate his loneliness. I budged, while reminding myself that an entry into this mysterious house may relieve my long and painful curiosity that I had pushed to the back of my mind with difficulty.I followed him inside the house. It was quite big. The sitting area was beautiful. Among the many things, my gaze fell on the showpiece area. There, at a place made in the wall specifically for the purpose were almost a dozen shields and trophies. It was unusual. I had seen such collections before and even had a small share of them myself but this was grander than I had ever seen. I went closer and realised that these were army given prizes. This place indeed housed brave people!I asked the old man if he was the proud owner of them. His face fell. Somehow in a few moments it turned into the face of the most sorrowful man on the Earth. He said “No. It is my son’s. We lost him in the Pathankot Air Force Station attack.” I felt embarrassed at asking something so personal and blurted immediately that I was sorry for his loss. Then I saw something I had been seeing for a long time.Right in the middle of the wall was a photo frame that was one of its kind. It was the most beautiful thing in the house and certainly the most beautiful one I had ever seen. There was a circular frame for the photo, which was empty for some strange reason and from the frame radiated a number of beautifully carved rays that had bits of glasses lodged in them. The light scattered brilliantly through them and lit the whole room. It definitely was a personalised item. Not loosely sold, I realised. Then, my gaze fell to the table in front of the wall. Lying on the table top was melted wax.Suddenly, it all came to me.That night, I slept even less. I wanted to pick up the canvas and splatter all the colours. But I couldn’t. Something stopped me. I went to the balcony at 1:10 am to find the woman standing there again. As the candle burned completely I watched her. At the end she gave a salute. The one filled with pure love and respect. I burst into tears. I looked up at the full moon. It was beautiful. I kept staring.~~THE END~~Do let us know what do you think in comments!Follow us :Instagram – Doodle DiariesFacebook – Doodle Diaires
Write Up Contest Winner 1 - " The Burning Question - Who Am I?"
Presenting one of the winning entries to the Doodle Diaries Write Up Contest on the below doodle as the theme.
THE BURNING QUESTION - WHO AM I? -Yashi Rai
The symbol of hope or The harbinger of doom,Penchant for little smiles,Symbolic of tears,Shoulder of hope,The penance of protest,Shadow of a million doubts,Flicker of a single charm,In the sea of eternal darkness,The only source of blinding light.A candle! That's what defines me!That is who I am!What makes me me,Different from others!But still one for the masses,Hope for things to change!The promise to survive,And give light, Even when I die!!
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April 14, 2018
Demons of the GAP (Part 2)
As a part of our 3rd anniversary celebrations, here we bring out the final part of the crossover comic.
Story till now - "Ana was informed of the death of Hazel and James. She was on the run to the same place, where Grandpa, grandma and Grandson were chilling. Someone starts throwing murder clues which most of them assume to be a game"..... Read the first part here.....Demons of the GAP (Part 1)
The story now.....
Do let us know what do you think in comments!
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April 9, 2018
Demons of the GAP ( Part 1)
Demons of the GAP (Part 1)
You all have read about the thrilling world of Ana in Inner Demons. You have gone goofy on the adventures of Grandson and Grandpa in GAP. Now what would happen when these worlds meet?
Absolute Chaos!!!!
Read on to find out!!!
The finale would be released on our 3rd Anniversary, 14th April to culminate one year of Doodle Comics.
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March 16, 2018
LITTLE EFFORTS - All it takes
Sanya is a not a cliche girl you would find in today's time. Yet one major flaw is she doesn't get along with her mom!! Read on to find out where the little efforts takes you to!!
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March 9, 2018
Why Should Girls Have All The Fun?
WHY SHOULD GIRLS HAVE ALL THE FUN?
In a galaxy near, near away our special correspondent brings in exclusive news on how valentine’s day was celebrated there. Read on to find out more..
Do let us know what do you think in comments!Follow us :Instagram – Doodle DiariesFacebook – Doodle Diaires
In a galaxy near, near away our special correspondent brings in exclusive news on how valentine’s day was celebrated there. Read on to find out more..
Do let us know what do you think in comments!Follow us :Instagram – Doodle DiariesFacebook – Doodle Diaires
February 13, 2018
Why I don't like Valentine's
Haha, after a long time, our in house writer Shreya is back with a new one shot on the whole hula bola surrounding the valentine's. Read on to find out!!!
Do let us know what do you think in comments!
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