AuthorVeeru Chheda

To live that little more

T

To live that little more.  ——————————————————————————-  Septuagenarians and octogenarians whose latent desire to live some more is so palpable that when they nervously celebrate another birthday or keep shaving off a couple of years of their age in conversations is saddening and amusing at the same time. The dejection with which they mentioned their age and doubts about more life while...

Dubai Diaries

D

Dubai Dairies.  A paradise state or suppressed emotions? I had the privilege of visiting Dubai, yes I say privilege as the entire state is created around tourism but unlike Thailand or similar there is a very upmarket polished feel to the entire place. First world experiences at almost third world prices. World class attractions, almost all the points of interest placed in close proximity to...

The Room

T

One day I was sitting in my wife’s office a room converted from a kitchen into a bedroom/study/office/storeroom the littlle room performed every role thrown at it with aplomb never giving us a chance to complain. Now if the room was performing multiple roles with such elan in a corporate it would get promoted into a bigger room every year with its ultimate goal to be the chairman’s room getting...

The lion still roars.

T

Sleep eludes me

Thoughts are many 

The dark confronts 

It and tyranny

The black complete 

Fear lurks

Something pulls

I feel a jerk

If it is death

Blessed relief 

If a fight 

Still me of yore 

And,

The lion still roars!

The time of right

T

The left is squirming. It would be turning over in its grave if it were dead but if we only were so lucky. It ruled the roost for generations ns with its intellectuals firmly entrenched across bureaucracy, press, educational institutions,police and of course the government. It shaped the thoughts of the tender with its rabid hatred of Hinduism and Nationalism with subversive means of textbooks...

The aches echo

T

The aches echo  Resounding claps of thunder Reverberating through the very depths of soul Legs cry foul Arms refuse cooperation  Sanity hanging by shreds As I navigate about the room All square feet of it Dragging isolated steps Hoping to stay upright  And look outside  It’s nice and bright  Sunbeam dances on my fingers  Teasing calling out The world just away from...

Dance of the eunuchs

D

Introduction.  There’s some perspective called for before we go further. An epilogue of sorts. We are a middle aged couple pushing 50, childless by choice repented a lot later but it was too late for anything to be done about it. After two decades of no real interaction with any child except a pat on the head reserved for relations came along Ronny. My sisters son. You need to know about my...

God to be or not to be

G

A god up there or a bridle to rein in the unfettered masses which otherwise would wreck havoc on themselves and the world as we know it. In my perspective humanity very soon found out they need organized religion to be kept in check for as someone said if you do not fear god you are capable of the vilest deeds imaginable. And also the most dastardly of acts are committed in the name of religion...

Burning Bridges

B

The utter callousness with which we do it. Nary a thought towards a lifetime of relation both of blood and beer alike. Going through life in a bubble of pompous self importance in a rush to burn bridges at the slightest of pretexts. When and from where such a egotistical cocoon envelopes us is a wonder sometimes with nothing remotely substantial in the weave. Walking a couple of feet in the air...

The whatsapp warriors

T

The saint The one with a direct channel between God and the group. He’s the first one to post devout and righteous messages, always the one rushing to teach correct and in general keep everyone within realms of his religious and social sensibilities.  The holier than thou There’s  not much different than the saint but this one is a pain in the behind. Oh! He is always correct can...

Veeru Chheda

About the Author

When I write I lay bare my soul. Amateurish attempts even if. That was my biggest dilemma when I thought of starting a blog. For when you open up deep hidden recesses of your inside, you are judged.

Sure you are applauded a little for what you did right but then the criticism comes in tons for your follies.

For the world is a cruel place indeed!

I have finally decided to go ahead with and post what has encompassed my life recently. Poetry. The words of exhilaration of anguish of tears of laughter of sometimes deep dark expressions waiting for a medium, for an outpour. Paths made of alphabets meandering through melancholy pain betrayal interspersed with brief bursts of bright and beautiful.

Poetry is what but a symphony of the pages with the writer wielding the baton making the words dance to a music that only he hears.

I am a man of contradictions, does that mean I say one thing and do the other? No! I do one thing and also do the other.

Middle age is when you look in the mirror and fret about what you see. At the threshold of old age with triumphs and regrets tucked in your holster You wait gingerly to cross over to the other fight.
When you look back with pleasure and pain and ahead with trepidation and hope.

So Dear Readers, let’s explore this beautiful world of words together. In my blog you will find poetry, short stories, travel reviews and tips and last but not the least Food. Restaurant reviews recipes and much more for I live to eat. For there is nothing more satisfying to soul than a good meal.

Get ready for a kaleidoscope of content but have patience for I have just started and will be posting as the write ups are ready. Please do express your thoughts on what is here anything from The Good The Bad and The Ugly for it will inspire me onwards and upwards. Jai Hind.