ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
My name is Neeshant Srivastava, a Mechanical Engineer by profession, I love writing be it short stories or poetry. My father late Arun B. Srivastava was a prolific writer himself and his works were published worldwide. His is the sole person who encouraged me to write as he saw some potential in it, if developed, to reach higher level of skill and self expression. I have a deep interest in music be it those old Neil Diamond numbers or the country-folk songs of the late John Denver. [April 2005]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (8) Divine Pigeon (Short Stories) It’s about a young boy wading through sands of time and his simple triumph in a belief that often took him to his sensuous childhood. This was an encounter with a pigeon and its own sweet way of showi... [516 words] Indian Saga: God Thine Lambs (Short Stories) - [5,263 words] Karma Yogi (Short Stories) It’s about an old man, a farmer and his work. It is a story of life dedication to his profession and how it taught him important lessons in life in spite of him being illiterate. This is the life and ... [2,667 words] Love Rhymes (Poetry) - [39 words] [Art] My Messiah, A Collection Of Verse (Poetry) They are a reflection of my ‘true’ life experiences and reflect its many shades and the inspiration to feel its many colors. I have dedicated a few of my poems to the people I came across – like my fa... [1,658 words] Passionate Kisses (Songs) a song abotu lovers [180 words] [Western] The Man Who Sold Buddha (Short Stories) This is a tale about a man who found his way through life by cheating and tried to gain footage. Only later did he realize that he was the loser in the end lost in perils. [3,009 words] [Literary Fiction] Where I Belong (Poetry) - [39 words]
Tryst With Love Neeshant Srivastava
Strong, unperturbed until the onslaught,
Make me a tiffany with honest sleeves,
Bake me in yellow sunshine,
With loving thumps and pickings in your enclave,
Trudged long years to see me grow,
You gave up on life we seldom know,
You christened the world with my name,
Even nook and cranny speaks your name,
Sometimes cried for distant footsteps,
Until I knew what your love was for.
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