#neelihara writes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neelihara · 5 months

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Jane Austen would've loved Ao3

Rabindranath Tagore would've loved Tumblr

Agatha Christie would've loved true crime podcasts

Leonardo Da Vinci would've loved drones

Vincent Van Gogh would've loved Procreate

Cleopatra would-be loved Vlogging and Makeup videos on YouTube

Shakespeare would've loved roasting people on Twitter

Benjamin Franklin would've loved memes

Nikola Tesla would've loved WiFi and would binge watch cat videos

Franz kafka would've loved blogging

Socrates would've loved TED talks

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dontlistentothemmoose · 7 months

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Hello,

I just read your astronaut time loop story. And I've to say it was absolutely awesome. Bloody brilliant if you ask me. I just wanted to know if I could write FanFiction for the astronaut and the nasa employee. And could I use the pronouns he/him for the nasa employee and she/her for the astronaut?? I really loved the way you wrote it. AND FRANK! THAT BASTARD. If it weren't for the fact that he helped I wouldn't have spared him for stealing lunch.

P.s. Myself Neelihara btw forgot to introduce myself lol

hey! thanks so much! and nice to meet you. please feel free to write whatever you’d like - and i’d love to see it if you want to tag me! and you (and anyone else who is interested!) can and should use any pronouns you like - they’re all accurate based on whatever y’all imagine.

poor frank. he DID help save the world. but he is a SUSTAINED lunch thief….so…yeah.

#astronaut x nasa employee #moon’s stuck in a time loop #moon loop #askanswers

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moonwriter-7 · 7 months

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Hi,

Just wanted to introduce myself as a fellow writer who wants to be friends.

I'm Neelihara. Nice to meet you 😁

hi <3 absolutely love to have more writing friends, so yay!!!

#lovely lovely mutuals

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neelihara · 5 months

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Every Desi family has atleast one woman named Baby

#desi tumblr #desiblr #neelihara writes #neelihara #desi tag #desi things #desi thoughts #just desi things

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neelihara · 6 months

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Computer room is a core memory that kids these days would never understand.

#neelihara #neelihara writes #desi writers #writers and poets #writers and readers #writers on tumblr #dead poets society #desi writer #desi tumblr #desiblr #computer room #core memory #shitposting #shitpost #lost memories #down the memory lane #my childhood #kids these days

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neelihara · 3 months

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Girls want this, Girls want that.

I'll tell you what girls actually want?

Girls want some peace of mind.

#desi tumblr #desiblr #desi writer #desi writers #writers and poets #writers and readers #neelihara writes #writers on tumblr #neelihara #dead poets society

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neelihara · 8 months

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The shortest poem is a name.

Each name, a verse, a story to tell,

In every heart, it casts its spell.

My mother's name a beautiful sound,

In her hugs, warmth is found.

My father's name that means moon,

A man that glows like the night's sweet boon.

My sister's name meaning infinite,

Just like our love,oh so tight.

Grandma's name, one of a goddess,

Her love and kindness, nothing less.

Grandpa's name, passed down through the years,

From his grandmother's love, it appears.

The girl from school, her face now a haze,

Her name alone, in my mind it stays.

The name of the girl who taught me to ride,

Guiding me on that two-wheeled hike.

The name of the teacher from seventh grade,

In whose classes joy didn't fade.

Best friend from college, her name means new,

In trips and trophies, our love grew.

Friends from youth and journeys afar,

Their names like constellations, each a star.

From friends and family, my hearts delight,

In bonds and friendships, shining bright.

With names, we carve our earthly claim,

To leave our mark, with a lasting name.

And in the unwritten chapters yet to be,

Lies the possibility of a family tree,

With names unspoken, a future we'll see,

As my child's name joins this legacy.

- NEELIHARA

I saw this post and it stirred something inside me and I got my pen and went to work.

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neelihara · 8 months

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Hello Dearest Readers,

This moment marks the beginning of something very dear to my heart. I've finally gathered the courage to share my world of words with someone other than my notebooks and Word documents.

I'm sitting down right now and penning this very first post with a nervous heart and a pinch of excitement.

Writing has been my very own hiding place for as long as I can recall. Whenever life got chaotic or my thoughts tangled like mischievous fairies, I sought refuge in beautiful blank pages.

When I started writing this, I feel like I am sharing my deepest secrets with you, as if you'd discovered my personal diary locked away in the attic. But I welcome you to my page, which will soon be a universe of words, thoughts, and theories that have long existed within me.

I like writing lots of things, from stories to poems, from my thoughts on a movie to why I should have punched the rude guy on the bus, everything I can imagine or express.

I'm Neelihara. This might not be the name of my birth certificate, but this is the name I have given to the part of my brain that makes me want to write. I have taken it as my pen name.

If we were sitting face to face, I'd probably offer you a cup of coffee and talk about stories late into the night. But since we're meeting on the internet, I'll pour my heart into these virtual posts.

Expect to find fragments of my soul scattered across my posts– poems that whispered to me in the middle of the night, stories spun from the threads of my imagination, and sometimes, just my unfiltered thoughts on the world around me and sometimes a diary entry bearing depths of my heart and soul.

I'm hoping that you'll be at home here and that my words will strike a chord with you. This isn't just about sharing; it's about connecting with like-minded souls and friends who appreciate words' beauty and power.

So, welcome to my quiet corner of the internet, where every post is a piece of me, and every reader is a treasured friend.

But remember, dear readers, every word I pen carries a piece of my soul, and your presence here is an honour beyond measure. As I embark on this experience, I eagerly anticipate your whispers in the comments.

So here's to a new chapter in my life. May our connection grow stronger with every word you read that I write, and may this blog of mine forge a few lasting friendships along the way?

I also happen to be an artist, finding just as much delight in drawing as I do in spinning words. Behold a creative glance that shows the part of my mind where the love for writing resides, which I captured in my drawing above.

With lots of love,

Neelihara

#writers and readers #writersociety #women writers #writeblr #writerblr #writers on tumblr #female writers #desiblr #desi writer #desi writers #desi tumblr #writers and poets #writer things #write every day #readerblr #neelihara writes #neelihara #writer intro #writer introduction

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neelihara · 7 months

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I became a woman the day I understood that my mother was once a girl

- NEELIHARA

#writers and poets #desi writer #desi writers #desiblr #writers and readers #desi tumblr #writers on tumblr #neelihara writes #neelihara #dead poets society #my writing #original writing #female writers #mothers and daughters #27-09-2023

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neelihara · 6 months

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I made this for myself but I felt all of us might need this some point in our life.

#neelihara writes #neelihara draws #neelihara #desi writers #desiblr #writers and poets #desi tumblr #writers and readers #writers on tumblr #desi writer #writers #dear me #dearest me #note to self #note to me #self love

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neelihara · 8 months

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PLASTIC BAGS INSIDE MORE BAGS

In every desi home, a common sight,

Bags within bags, neatly kept tight.

Plastic grocery bags they're here to stay,

For reasons practical in their own way.

A second life they find, to save and store,

Even far away from the grocery store.

From snacks and spices to grains and more,

They carry treasures from the grocery store.

They're more than just bags; these humble tools,

In desi homes, where tradition rules.

For picnics and lunches, they're packed with delight,

Holding our meals wrapped up tight.

With careful folds, we stash them in place,

These plastic bags are our saving grace.

Though they're plastic, and the environment we must mind,

Their uses are many in daily life we often find.

So, in every desi home, these bags reside,

With stories to tell, they're our source of pride.

- NEELIHARA

I saw this post by @desi-potato and I wanted to write a fun small poem about the plastic bags in our desi housholds

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neelihara · 8 months

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GREY IS MY FAVOURITE COLOUR

In the shadows, where darkness takes its hold,

A villain's tale is too often left untold.

They cloak themselves in cruelty's embrace,

but beneath it all, a different story finds its place.

Their past is a beautifully misunderstood, tangled mess,

A life of pain, a heart in distress.

Innocence lost, betrayed by trust,

Their journey through the darkness is a must.

Heroes may rise, noble and brave;

Their sacrifices are what the world's hearts crave.

But villains, oh, the depths they descend,

For love or revenge, they fiercely defend.

They may seem evil, cruel, and cold,

Yet, for one person's sake, their story unfolds.

A selfish streak, manipulative art,

Yet they'd tear worlds apart to protect one heart.

The world sees monsters born in the night,

But villains were shaped by a different fight.

Lost souls bearing scars, their innocence refused.

In places of darkness, lost and so confused,

In the depths of pain, where lost souls roam,

They carry their scars, denied a peaceful home.

Before we blame their actions so wild,

Look at the scars of a wounded inner child.

A hero's sacrifice, while noble and bold,

Would leave behind my heart an empty, broken mold.

But with a villain's love,

As white as a black dove.

If they're the one who holds my heart in their hand,

Through flames and ashes, they'll still stand.

Selfish I am, it's true, in this love that I want,

From birth's tender cry to death's final haunt.

Born this way and unapologetically so,

I'll remain until my last breath's soft flow.

In my villain's embrace, I find my grace,

A love transcending time and space.

In their dark embrace, I find my peace,

As the world's storms never cease.

For heroes may fall, and the world may decay,

But in my villain's arms, I choose to stay.

In the painting of the night,

Under the moon's grey light.

My villain claims my love,

His heart a hidden dove,

His lips brushed against mine,

Soft and gentle as a black dove's wing.

Beautifully bathed in the lunar light.

In a world of black and white,

Grey has always been my favourite light.

Oh, the subtle shades that sway,

In the dance of my villain's way.

-NEELIHARA

I wrote this poem after seeing a show where the villain I loved was killed. I was left with a sense of loss, and I wanted to mourn this character. The poem is an attempt to explore the idea that even villains may have more to their story. It's a means to express my love and empathy towards the villain. Thank you for reading, and I would love to know your thoughts on my poem.

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neelihara · 7 months

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King Coco: Tumblr's Furry Monarch

Once upon a land of purr,

Lived a cute cat with brown fur.

Coco was his name, a furry friend,

Larger than life, his fame had no end.

In Tumblr land, he ruled with grace,

Charming whiskers upon his face.

King Cocoba, with a purr so grand,

He reigned with love across the land.

I saw this picture of @mad-who-ra 's cat Coco and it gave me royal/king vibes and I wrote this poem for the cutest cat I've seen.

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neelihara · 8 months

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The devil would sell me his soul and ask me to write him poetry. I am that good and conceited.

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neelihara · 6 months

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This is part one of this post

This line was written by @amomentwiser in this post,

I relate to this line: "The story slipped into the space between my bed and the wall." on a deeper level. When I was a child, the space between my bed and the wall was a mystery. It was also a space I was terrified of. My mother would clean that place once in a while and not daily like the whole house. Later on, I realised that she needed to move the bed to clean there and didn't find it convenient to do every day. But as a kid, I didn't know it. I just saw it as a black space where the unknown exists. One night, I remember the bed had somehow moved slightly away from the wall, and the space increased, and I didn't know that. I was awake, unable to sleep that night for some reason I don't remember. My sister, who was lying asleep beside me, rolled and pushed me towards the space, and I accidentally fell into it a little. One of my hands and legs got stuck in that space, with the rest of me lying on the bed crying until my mother woke up and helped me out. Since then, a small corner of my brain still considers the space between my bed and the wall a scary, dark place. I later realised that this place was not so scary and unknown.

The sentence "The story slipped into the space between my bed and the wall" reflects how a writer can have a great idea for a story but struggle to finish it because they don't write it down. It tells how ideas for stories can slip away and get lost in the void, much like the unknown and mysterious space between my bed and the wall from my childhood. Sometimes, we forget to grab these ideas, and they vanish into the void, never to be written down or brought to life. It's a reminder that in the creative process, our best ideas might simply disappear, like things lost in that once-feared space between my bed and the wall. But just like I found out that there's nothing scary in that space and I won't get lost I might also not lose my stories to that space and reach out to them and write them down someday to share these beautiful stories from my head with other people as well.

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neelihara · 6 months

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Life is good, and one day you wake up and read a quote by some random person you don't even know, and a story begins to form in your head; you have four main characters and two crazy villains, and then the prodigal morally grey character returns and there are three epic fights and a climax, and there's a little kid who holds flowers to give everyone at the end, and then you realise it's all in your head and now you have to write it down, or else this beautiful, beautiful story will be lost in the neurons roaming around in your brain...

Anyone else or just me ?

#neelihara #neelihara writes #desi writer #desi writers #desiblr #writers and poets #desi tumblr #writers and readers #writers on tumblr #dead poets society #writers #my writing #female writers #writerblr

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