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Subrat SaurabhAuthor of Kuch Woh PalIn evenfall’s sigh, gleams a hiraeth. When silhouettes of the past bloom in the shadows, a longing, a yearning awaits. Sitting on the shores of melancholy, staring at the empty skies of longing, Vardaan cries his heart and spills his tears in the magical words of these pages. Too trifle for his age, and too old for his yearning, Vardaan Vikram Singh is a 19 year old writer, poet, film fiction and theatre enthusiast, smoked admirer of music with a degree in classical music, an active follower of chess and a rookie martial art and cricket player, and ironically enough, an inquisitive physics dRead More...
In evenfall’s sigh, gleams a hiraeth. When silhouettes of the past bloom in the shadows, a longing, a yearning awaits. Sitting on the shores of melancholy, staring at the empty skies of longing, Vardaan cries his heart and spills his tears in the magical words of these pages. Too trifle for his age, and too old for his yearning, Vardaan Vikram Singh is a 19 year old writer, poet, film fiction and theatre enthusiast, smoked admirer of music with a degree in classical music, an active follower of chess and a rookie martial art and cricket player, and ironically enough, an inquisitive physics devotee. A former student and head boy from St. Pauls, a Harvard accepted and currently pursuing engineering from Delhi.
Growing up, running and hustling from the Taj-estic streets of Agra, Vardaan found Solace in the intriguing ways of life at a very young age of 15. Descending from a family of writers and scholars, Vardaan looked up to his father to draw his inspiration.
Initially, intrigued and rooted by Nature, Vardaan began with writing nature imageries. Each nature imagery echoing a tale of sympathy to the dejected and lost.Gradually, with the flows of time, he explored other themes of love, loss and nostalgia.
Each poem in the collection has seen a different shade in Vardaan’ s life. Fueled by personal experiences and perceptions, Vardaan has tried to bring a new life to his soliloquies of homesickness for a home that never was.
Read Less...Achievements
A memory you never remembered?
A phantom ache, a cursed place you have never been?
A love you've never held?
A time that only resides in your dreams?
And a home, that you probably never had?
When the heart aches, the smell of the past whisper like the wind through hollowed bones,
A yearning carved into the marrow of your soul,
For what was, what could be- what never was at all.
Drown y
A memory you never remembered?
A phantom ache, a cursed place you have never been?
A love you've never held?
A time that only resides in your dreams?
And a home, that you probably never had?
When the heart aches, the smell of the past whisper like the wind through hollowed bones,
A yearning carved into the marrow of your soul,
For what was, what could be- what never was at all.
Drown yourself into the waters of Hiraeth, where time stops and fate smiles. Where each poem is a strange piece of yourself long immersed in the eternity of time. Where every longing, memory and loss interwine under the shadows of the moon.
A sea of moments, a sun of transitions and a hymn for the restless. Each page surfing you to the shores of solitude, and self discovery.
A breath caught between what was lost and what will never be,
Let the seas of Hiraeth speak more honestly,
To those willing to drown
Let Hiraeth take you, let it mirror you, let it leave you changed
A memory you never remembered?
A phantom ache, a cursed place you have never been?
A love you've never held?
A time that only resides in your dreams?
And a home, that you probably never had?
When the heart aches, the smell of the past whisper like the wind through hollowed bones,
A yearning carved into the marrow of your soul,
For what was, what could be- what never was at all.
Drown y
A memory you never remembered?
A phantom ache, a cursed place you have never been?
A love you've never held?
A time that only resides in your dreams?
And a home, that you probably never had?
When the heart aches, the smell of the past whisper like the wind through hollowed bones,
A yearning carved into the marrow of your soul,
For what was, what could be- what never was at all.
Drown yourself into the waters of Hiraeth, where time stops and fate smiles. Where each poem is a strange piece of yourself long immersed in the eternity of time. Where every longing, memory and loss interwine under the shadows of the moon.
A sea of moments, a sun of transitions and a hymn for the restless. Each page surfing you to the shores of solitude, and self discovery.
A breath caught between what was lost and what will never be,
Let the seas of Hiraeth speak more honestly,
To those willing to drown
Let Hiraeth take you, let it mirror you, let it leave you changed
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