A poet is the one who lives as a struggle r to call his conscious mind with clear points of his own opinion. His
soul is calm and violent by an agitation that sharpens him in developing a new
theory that no longer exists by the rare invention of his thoughts. He would
had the dark roomed solitude— the foundation where he was changed by the
society, there was his credits in creating all his senses in varying depth. He traveled throughout the paths of knowledge in roaming for peace and a serene ambiance until he settles with his sparkling range of creation. He had not
spent money much to survive in Earth but has the hope that he considered as a
gap between birth and death, by Birth must be he have his voice in this Earth or
he was born by a self-conscious mind and awareness of his views he went. He
called that ‘Visionary’, the only
world which can give an expecting profit as his hope survives until the end. He
is striving to write and calling his imaginations forth to write in his paper.
He is loving nature and he establish nature as a God itself where the
conversion cycle occur, the birth and its mirth, one cycles through out there
until the end. He compared nature with human feelings and he adopts the theory
of his evergreen Metaphysics. He believes that man comes from soil and goes
directly to the same whenever he is fulfilled by his aims in our planet. He
never forgets to love and loved by someone, he is surviving with Inspirations
of a special affection he have— where he broke his solitude and keep in company
with that precised soul that gives Art to Art contact in enriching the subjects
new and Old.
Monday, August 25, 2014
Sunday, August 24, 2014
CLOUDY ROMANCE
Today, She in my thoughts was Bright, bright as the peacock flashed up in the Romantic paths of Silvery dreams, I was in the middle of aesthetic thoughts, nature was giving me visionary ideas to think with her inspiring smile and its strength that bestow me, since I met the first rays of her happiness. She that smiled like an insatiable philosopher, who craving for knowledge, which made me feel she wants me forever in this revolving Earth.How well I obeyed Light and its different sources that ever had comprehend the human lives in Earth.Now is her mind that itself my reflection. She had her braided hair that embellished with Golden beads and beauty was so playful around the long sharp face of that curious Girl of ten thousands dreams in many days to come. Before the dusk had arrived, we had to talk underneath the tree shades with pastoral mirth. Then seen the sun was above the horizon smiling for us and below we were talking with nothing to constrain our thoughts. How fair was the transparency of these views, how mingling us like the magnet that attracts, we linked each other with an overwhelming felicity. Imaginations are Godly that we had to bring its fancied car that moved with high spirit, the green pastures paved us our ensuring aesthetics. The glam forest green plants would have sensed both of us with unseen melody. For sometimes we laughed and enjoyed the real artistic pleasure, and on the other hand Nature gave me so many extraordinary emotions too. Nature was like a smiling kid that danced up in the airy afternoon and when we thought of its lamenting eyes, the likeness we felt over the Human’s misery that blushed in our thoughts—how long we Love, a question arose, so serious.
The blue vault was far, infinite that we can’t clasp, and since our thoughts joined she had to talk about the vastness that knowledge takes man to reach the extreme summit from the Earth. Her mind was same as the firmaments height; nothing could satisfy her in this orbital quest. Like the roots of a secret tree, mystic and grown wide and long. You loved spring, when you felt the first haste of it, you informed me that you are to travel, to wander round the Earth like a wandering cloud floats in the magic air and you unveiled all the secrets of life that you went through. I was always eager to hear your philosophy with my enchanted ears; the inventions of your songs that gladden me in all the cells of my imaginations. Music you had and muse was your kingdom, the amorous tunnel that connects our nostalgic thoughts to swim across the myriad shorelines of Life. Spring had been your wonder since last month, where you loved the flowers of different fragrance and you caressed them like Lover’s birds that warble from the top of some cluster y mossy tress. How great that Love adored your spring and Muse, same as our love letters that convey our manly emotions.
Now the clouds already started to gloom in the skies, same as our thoughts that we are going to part-away in a dreary evening. We have to put away our emotional state until the next morning seeks the renewed joys upon our souls self. I could grab you in your hand, and we walked slowly through the side of the mirrored streams that our images are running through the clearly waters of life and love. My nerves started to beat as was my heart like in its rare feelings, the throbs of a new life from my pasty solitude. Now I have an extra mind, a mind upon another freedom that moves with me far and fairer Now. Now we had past the last alley of our village, and our hands split apart and you moved away from me and some emptiness moistened my hands and as a last word I kissed you in the dark, like an enthusiast of great remembrance.
I whispered these lines:
''Lo move I unto a pastoral world of joy,
Where burdens naught and dissolves in that secret soul
Of warmth that soothe for me forever I enjoy
Like the sublime future that tents me so powerful''
The blue vault was far, infinite that we can’t clasp, and since our thoughts joined she had to talk about the vastness that knowledge takes man to reach the extreme summit from the Earth. Her mind was same as the firmaments height; nothing could satisfy her in this orbital quest. Like the roots of a secret tree, mystic and grown wide and long. You loved spring, when you felt the first haste of it, you informed me that you are to travel, to wander round the Earth like a wandering cloud floats in the magic air and you unveiled all the secrets of life that you went through. I was always eager to hear your philosophy with my enchanted ears; the inventions of your songs that gladden me in all the cells of my imaginations. Music you had and muse was your kingdom, the amorous tunnel that connects our nostalgic thoughts to swim across the myriad shorelines of Life. Spring had been your wonder since last month, where you loved the flowers of different fragrance and you caressed them like Lover’s birds that warble from the top of some cluster y mossy tress. How great that Love adored your spring and Muse, same as our love letters that convey our manly emotions.
Now the clouds already started to gloom in the skies, same as our thoughts that we are going to part-away in a dreary evening. We have to put away our emotional state until the next morning seeks the renewed joys upon our souls self. I could grab you in your hand, and we walked slowly through the side of the mirrored streams that our images are running through the clearly waters of life and love. My nerves started to beat as was my heart like in its rare feelings, the throbs of a new life from my pasty solitude. Now I have an extra mind, a mind upon another freedom that moves with me far and fairer Now. Now we had past the last alley of our village, and our hands split apart and you moved away from me and some emptiness moistened my hands and as a last word I kissed you in the dark, like an enthusiast of great remembrance.
I whispered these lines:
''Lo move I unto a pastoral world of joy,
Where burdens naught and dissolves in that secret soul
Of warmth that soothe for me forever I enjoy
Like the sublime future that tents me so powerful''
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
For A Book Newly Received In My Desk—Called Baudelaire's Revenge
He left, and am alone in a seat—how to read this Historical fiction by my favorite author, Bob Van Laerhoven,some aims are surrounding with me and his book 'Baudelaire's Revenge'— has good diversity in its own way, would be it took many years for him to construct this Ideas. Long as I knew he is a traveler and a great fan of History—I too fall to that genre in one or other way,secretly by extreme passion of mind.Now my boss is gone and the loneliness led me write something that surging in my mind for today that unlike every days I have had something special to reveal.I think today I did climb to sheer surprise,as the book dealer surprised me.The colorful book was sent from a vender in America.Such a happy day to spare the joyous moments.'Cultural Days' are coming, some way I realized,to keep myself steady to stand and to read some Brave stuff from since the book I received.This is a great cover,this will take all of us to 1870 when Paris was in turmoil,a strong political and poetical Novel with great arguments as long as I went through and must to read and give an aptly review for this Master craft.Bob would be a happy man now ,who crafted this with much like his throbbing heart.When the work was published he would had reached into happier regions after a successful release.
What mine? a gloomy star,who living like he struggling to live, and tearing the mind with questions that can hurt himself. I in this form is nothing to compete,compare or being envy of literature generations passed by.Bob and my Boss related to each other,they talks a language similar one another and Bob varies him by his deep Historical knowledge. He have visited through out the world, researched ups and Downs of life, entered and felt different civilizations of the world, visited War-thorn areas of the world, who worked as a messenger,who wants peace and who have the slogan of self-maintanence,toleration and with solid knowledge in politics.He is a genius and a violent fire by words. Am gazing this Book—Book! its, is it!. I have this as a magic,because I would never be found him if I were not a writer or scribe something with mere enlightenment.So this way we can connect to pass the generations alive. Look at this Cover of the book, he walking in a Parisian alley of vivid air and I now think its a great coincidence to meet an author of this type—One who writes crime fictions. I admire his talents all the way with his experience of past twenty one years as an independent foreign author.Bob is talking about a Serial Killer, a criminal atmosphere was originating at Paris at the time of Franco-Prussian War and leaves lines from the recent-deceased Charles Baudelaire's disputable collection Of poems on each Corpse,written with the Poet's exact handwriting—and Commissioner Lefevre,a freak of poems and an expect on Algerian War, is on the case to investigate—Wow! what more ye all need for such a thrill, is the key theme of the book
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
An Interview Done In 2014 By An American Magazine
How or why did you decide to become a writer?
I was born in India, since the school days I was fascinated with literature, arts and drama.There I used to write and present poems,and participated in many arts competitions too.I have been to the new ray of hope — I, a mused traveler, an Indian, a démodé brain by the very origin, a draughtsman that works for a mechanical wing, an ardent reader of fiction, and the appreciator of many written works. A painter who is really fond of unveiled Imaginations.
And with me are multitudinous manias that embark in the scintillated pathway of my mind. Creations are more often reflected from the aesthetic gulf that dares to work anew, to write against the modern customs of the World’s present, wretched entertainment.
In my book, I chose to be myself, the one who vows a new cultural age, the dreamt passions still athwart from the soul. One who wrote his Non-fiction work, a book called 'Halcyon Wings', amid solitude, with a quest waving in me since I enjoyed the wonderful world of mysteries that tempt me to write— as they were my own feathers of freedom to fly. There was a conflict in my life, the agonies that overtook me in all the forms of its glimpses. The past is a terrible dream that awakened me to rouse the effectual sound of self pleasure, since no horror spoilt me. I lost much happiness —dear ones, relatives, friends —though inevitable, to nature’s deep philosophical will, and these are losses that I, as a humble student, still know. My greatest author’s support website is 'Cultural Book', the platform where I started writing and posting my ideas. There I found their cultural values and the greatest roots of literature, and it remains a source of distinct pleasure.
Do you write under a pen name? If ‘yes’, what is your pen name?
I write under the pen name ‘purple’ .’Nithin Purple’ looks something change in me.Isn’t?
What is the working title of your book?
“Halcyon Wings”. Its published in Partridge publishers via Author Solutions, USA
Who or What inspired you to write this book?
visionary poets like Byron, Shelley were my all time
stars and their poems I used to read when I was in my younger stages of life.And Gothic novels and suspence thrillers also I used to read,they gave an impact to publish the book ‘Halcyon Wings’.Here I have crafted the wings of freedom to speak and respond. I was searching for liberty and I achieved through this book.
What genre does your book fall under?
Philosophy is the intresting branch which Iam into. I do crime, fiction, Non-fiction and science .My book will be under Western Philosophy and History.
What is the one or two-sentence synopsis of your book?
When Passion Combines with visionary ideas there is always a con which I strongly use as a weapon to argue and give foundation for a new theory.Iam so agressive and determined.
How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
About three months. And by 5th month was released.
What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
I rather like to describe my book as following a fashion of writing with a fine stylus created by myself. Though my mind was perplexed, I implored GOD for great support and strength. Then, the ardent passion fumed with a cloudy surprise, and the creation came, though night by night I strived as the flow came. The book has writings about hope, hopelessness, rage, warmth, God, love and Nature. I left my home at the age of twenty-six and had a primordial lifestyle, searching for reorganization, recognition and a stream of knowledge throughout this stint. There was one life that I unveiled and thought: a life with Literature and passion. I found the blossom from the rarest corner of my life. 'Halcyon Wings' was my invention to grasp liberty in a very tranquil way, inside painful elegies, also in memory of my dear friends and relatives who passed away in the past and kept a memory string that joins you readers, if you will read them aloud. These written passages, along with the memories – from one who never wants to keep anything buried within himself – are there to let another know how overwhelming was the painful terror in the beaten tracks.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
On Quest: Intensity Of Love towards Nature & Quest
Far moving this mind streams,
no rest to spare a long vacation, but the core is here to induce a new theory
to raise the new-found planet, with new senses,
the sparkling areas that attract a domain pole of amazement.
The ornateness of green upon
the forest boughs and its attracting flowers of peaceful smiles.
It will make me happy-happy
more to imbibe the aesthetic beauty in some falling lines.
when I have hold a pen to write my feelings upon a white imaginary
region is unobserved as silence that I have felt as in tranquillity to beautify
the soul.
I had a walk through the
foggy pastures, this morning to scan the meaning of it, the quintessence of it,
the lightness of it, which makes a true living society pure.
There was it in a village side,
the very lowest part of Earth, where I was born,
Where I loved the birds of nature,
the reliable realms of the world, when in my childhood days, where innocence
that played most among the solitary thoughts.
I mentioned each surprise I
had met in life, new and old, rare and vivid as I am going to turn up the
folded mind to uncover.
It was tough for the morning
to pass a laugh,
But I laugh as I always, for
a favour to 'ignorance’, those who have that and know its actual meaning,
but hide it in a secret pile of anxiety.
But for who wants to excavate
the ‘gist of knowledge' is only an effort leads the
rest.
For literally say, I bury and
dig at a same time in the midst of reason and mistakes
I am not dying away so sooner
in want of bread and water, but I live in the 'Forest’, looking the stars and
the sun.
To fathom the pith of
uprising wonders that live in the fading parts of the universe, and have a
strong aim to work for the welfare of these gathering kids of indolence.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
O' Nature,every mind has some of thy reflections,every hue of splendid quality and a frailly smile,when thy climates' changes,all will change better than you are'
O' Nature,every mind has some of thy reflections,every hue of splendid quality and a frailly smile,when thy climates' changes,all will change better than you are'

Tuesday, May 27, 2014
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CANT TRUST ME, CANT TRUST YOU
"The spirit fell into the dark pit of doubt: cant trust me, cant trust you.’ Life’, the more a burn on burn feeling, the longing ...


