Ganesh Narayan

I am a Writer

Ganesh Narayan

I am a Content Writer who helps startups to enterprises meet their content demands with factually correct content for website landing pages, blogs, press releases, case studies, white papers, presentations, infographics, videos and every other imaginable form of content.
Feel free to reach me at:

  • #12A, 6th Main Road, Nanganallur, Chennai - 61.
  • +610-401-6021, +610-401-6022
  • ganeshnarayan88@gmail.com
  • www.yourdomain.com
Me

My Professional Skills

I am a focussed professional with an arsenal of choiceful skills that help me deliver content of great value.

Blogging 90%
Thought Leadership 80%
Graphic Designing 75%
Video Editing 60%

Awesome features

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Animated elements

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Responsive Design

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Modern design

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Retina ready

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Fast support

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  • Kerala is sheer poetry

    Being born and brought up there, I always have a long tongue to talk about Kerala. The land that rose form the ocean waters when Lord Parasuram threw an axe never fails to mesmerize me.


    Kerala is a piece of exquisite greenery. The Eden of the south. The official abode of the best-in-class tea gardens. The land where beauty and mystery go hand in hand. Where mahouts and elephants take morning walks and casual baths in the green waters of the temple ponds. There is an air of oddity in the daily life of Kerala which will both surprise and excite a first time visitor.

    Rains are always uninvited guests here. One can never predict when the skies will rumble and hurl down a consignment of rain and thunder. The sky might look bright and sunny for most part of the day. But hidden behind the bright skies are looming rain clouds, like sorcery behind beauty, devising to upset all plans for a perfect holiday. Nevertheless, for someone from a tropical climate where constant sweating and swearing of soaring temperatures is the norm, Kerala is a refreshing delight.

    A paradise of sorts for a weekend getaway, until some political party declares a strike on the day you set foot on Kerala's soil. Like its rains Kerala's political climate is also unpredictable, sometimes even more unbelievable.

    Kerala's women are ravishingly beautiful. Pitch black hair that fall upto knees, fish-like eyes and an anatomy that will even put some Greek goddesses to shame. Oh! And when they dance Mohaniattam, Bharatanatyam or other classical dance, it’s like Lord Indra's heavenly damsels setting their foot on earth.

    Beauty runs in the veins of Kerala, in the form its beautiful women and the backwaters. But the real beauty of Kerala is in its green nature. The palm fringed coasts and green forest reserves add to the natural magnificence of God's Own Country.


    To be continued..
  • Why I write?

    Quite often I have been asked why I write. Sometimes in a tone that means aversion to my long paragraphs (like this one). Different people have different reasons for writing. Some write for the sake for writing. They write bills, invoices, official letters, and sometimes even resignation letters. Others, the real writers, write for the love and passion for writing. They don’t write romantic love letters, but letters with love, for themselves and for the art of writing. And I am proud to share such passion although it is not right to call myself a writer of the truest form.

    As for me writing is the simplest form of self-pleasure. I just put into words those thoughts that flood my mind during most parts of the day. It is so amazing to imagine how a language with just twenty six alphabets can be used in multiple combinations and permutations to create meaningful words. And these words when used together in a sentence, like beads of a necklace create beautiful stories and phrases. Stories that entertain, amuse, enlighten and sometimes even inspire us to adopt a better way of living.

    As for me, I write about anything that comes to my mind. Being a nature lover my thoughts are usually rhyme like why the sky is blue, why the rainbow has a hue, why water is formless and colorless and such thoughts that normal people resign as useless and childish. Otherwise I get into a war of words that demolish and destruct the goodwill of political parties. I love nailing the wretched political barbarians of this otherwise divine country with my words. That little defamation is all that I can do as a powerless citizen.


    I am at a loss of words when it comes to examinations. The black and white print of a question paper dries the ink in my pen and halts the activity of my brain. Maybe an exam hall is the only place where my passion for writing does a nosedive. My creativity is no match for the mammoth expectations of my examiners. I pray for their good health, because I have cursed them long enough for making me write tiring exams year after year. 
  • Oh no! Summer is here!

    End of March. Beginning of April. Say Hello to Summer.

    Cold welcome with bottles of iced water to an annual guest. Only that it is more scorching than hot and without any lustful features. Oh! Summer is here! To roast me in the afternoon heat. To make me walk around with bottles full of water. Inside my house it feels like sitting on a furnace. Outside it feels like hot oil being poured all over me. Sweat stains all over me drenching three dresses a day. The AC works but with a loud noise that disturbs my work. I won’t dare to switch it off. Let my work suffer, but I don’t want to sweat anymore like I do when summer comes. Down the street, around the corner, under the shade of a tree there is a man who has been selling pani puri since ages. A week before I saw him start a new business of selling sugar cane juice. Yesterday I saw him zooming away in a brand new bike. He certainly must be in love with summer, but definitely not me. In a month he might buy a car and half of its cost would have gone from my pocket.


    Hey Summer, Tormentor of humid regions,  Army in Chief of the Mighty Sun, please show some mercy on me and my torn wallet. My dear Kerala! How I miss you! My beautiful mistress with armies of coconut trees and vast pools of dirty green water. If only they were neat I would have happily had a swim with a rubber tube around my belly! And now that you are also becoming hotter day by day I will get used to living a life tied to bottles of ice cold water. 
  • Forgive & Forget

    Forgive & Forget

    I've learnt a small lesson.
    One that made my life a lot better,
    One that made my life a lot easier and happier. 
    The lesson to forgive & forget.

    Stings of betrayal poked into my heart
    Leaving a sour taste of hurt and despair.
    Which if I had chose to ignore,
    Would have been gone without a trace.

    It is when I let them surface,
    Do I give them power to hurt and bleed my insides.
    As time passes, they grow big and kill my happiness.
    Finally, I've learnt it’s better to Forgive and Forget. 

    I must forgive and forget,
    Not because I am weak for revenge.
    But, I deserve peace and love.

    Most importantly I deserve to be Happy!
  • Nelson Mandela - Motivation. Inspiration. Determination

    Thank You Madiba.

    Thank You for not giving up when you were caged inside a box jail,
    Thank You for not letting the prison bars crush your big dreams of abolishing apartheid,
    Thank You for not letting down the Whites after the abolishing apartheid.
    Thank You for avoiding a third world war!


    I am Sorry your eye sight was permanently damaged the hard glare of the lime quarry at Robben Island, 
    But Thank You for still finding strength to raise your voice against racial discrimination,
    I am Sorry that your personal life suffered while fighting for the development of Africa.
    But Thank You for inspiring and motivating millions like me!

    Thank You bringing back Africa from killing itself with violence.
    Thank You for making us understand that color of the skin and ethnicity are meaningless.
    Thank You for being a true Gandhian unlike many of our politicians who claim to be.
    Thank You for fighting to give us a world full of equal opportunities.

    Thank You for upholding compassion even when your countrymen opposed,
    Thank You for giving the world all that you were denied of,
    Most of us know who You are,
    For those of them who don't;

    Let them hear more about your unconquerable soul.
    Let them hear that you were the savior of suppressed souls.
    Beyond this world of blood and cries,
    May your voice for peace and equality resonate around

    Thank You again from a young Indian who have seen you in pictures, videos, have read your book and felt inspired to do something for this world sooner or later.


    Rest.In.Peace.
  • A tribute to Photographers

    Since some time I have been seeing posts in the social networking circle that seem to mock at aspiring photographers . The pain and passion behind this art form is not known to many including people who create such posts. I am NOT a photographer because I know to call yourself one, your pictures should speak more than your words. And my pictures are pretty dumb when compared to the many works of our photographer friends.

    This is a tribute to them. A tribute to all my photographer friends who have made me look better in pictures than in person. Thank You!

    Pictures speak thousand words in a silent language. Some entertain us. Some make us wonder. Some make us smile. Some inspire us. Some even touch our hearts. But nevertheless they have some impact on us.
    Love them or hate them, you just can't ignore them.

    Like pieces of time frozen on a sheet of paper they take us into the future where we'll look back and ask "Is that me? Oh my, I've changed a lot!" That is exactly the reason why many of us love photographs than real people, because people may change for various reasons, but despite the change of seasons and assault of time, a photograph remains as it is.

    Unchanged in emotion.
    Unchanged in appearance.
    Unchanged in its perspective.

    The splash of a water drop, the smile of a child, the greenery of nature, the growl of a tiger, the grandeur of a monument, the shade of a moonlight sky, the rays of the morning sun, the anger of a protester, the fury of wildlife, the pose of a dancer, the strength of a wrestler, the pace of a sprinter, the normalcy of daily life. All this and more, the lens of a photographer never misses to shoot the life that surrounds us which others often miss to notice in a hurry to earn money.

    A salute to all photographers for framing the world in beautiful pictures.
    May your cameras keep clicking.
    May your photographs present life in a better way.

    May there be more photographers.
  • Merry Go Chennai MRTS

    The daily commute in Chennai's MRTS is sort of an adventure. Apart from winning the beeline queue for tickets that crawls forward in snail pace stretching far and beyond the station entrance gates, getting inside and securing a seat is close to conquering the Everest on a daily basis. And once seated, the vivid scenes that are enacted inside by its many passengers are both entertaining as well as amusing.

    Coming from an accountancy background, where classification is a daily job, the writer can't help but classify the various co-passengers he meets during his train ride. Read on, you must know these characters!

    1.       The music maniac: Typically aged somewhere in the 20s. Some rare extreme cases of IT employed middle aged people can also be found. Gadget freak grandpas and music fanatic uncles are also on the rise. Has a backpack hanging from one shoulder, usually uncombed hair if not an office goer, wears branded shoes if not counterfeit and has an earphone tucked deep into his ear lobes (the most prominent feature). This character usually has a lost expression on his face and some advanced cases may display acts of shaking heads and ticking fingers.  Harmless, since they are oblivion to the incidents and to the people surrounding them in a train ride. Often even forgets to get down at their destination.

    2.       The retired employee: Typical characters to be seen travelling during 7 to 9, when the train is less crowded and has more air to breathe although no seats to sit. Gets into the train with a cup of coffee bought from a station vendor, has a Hindu newspaper (99%) or some other Tamil paper tucked in armpits. Wears a gold spectacle matched with tilaks on foreheads and stares like they have come from the past in a time machine. Once seated, they spread out the newspaper like it’s their child's wedding invitation and keeps studying forever until reaching destination. Some are even known to clock time taken by the train to pass between two stations.

    3.       Romantic couples: The writer thanks from the bottom of his heart to these co-passengers, who have been his only source of entertainment as well as frustration combined with irritation, since the day he has started travelling in Chennai's metro trains.  Mostly college goers although school goers in uniforms are also widely seen nowadays (much to the disappointment of the writer's uneventful school days!). Modern day Romeo Juliet they are who exchange mobile numbers instead of roses. Fortunate co-passengers can see some less intimate cuddling where the guy tries to protect his girl from being touched by other passengers even when the train is empty. Usually have each other holding their hands although coming together of the lips cannot be ruled out completely. Their journey has no destination as such, except for the motive of getting an empty compartment.

    4.       The detective aunty: A married, plump, and employed otherwise a home maker with fixed destinations to Thiruvallikeni or Mylapore for visiting temples if not West Mambalam for T Nagar shopping.  Has a curious eye that passes judgmental looks which does not spare even the romantic couples. Sometimes shows irritations with romantic couples and women with short dresses and blames their parents for the cultural downfall. Also known to utter words of pride of her cultured daughter(s) who, to her ignorance could possibly be the female character of the romantic couple in another train on the opposite direction.

    5.       The born pervert: Bears a constant drooling expression, which touches heights when a woman enters the compartment. Seen with symptoms of craning necks and unnecessary shuffling to get a better look of his find.  Does not mind stepping onto his fellow passengers to get close to a lady. This type can be found in all age categories of men which is due to the hormone imbalances in few but not all. Extreme cases are known to take pictures of the ladies with mobile cameras before getting beaten up by co-passengers. Destination - The journey is the destination!

    6.       The scrambler: Usually healthy in appearance but always in a hurry to find a seat. Known to place bags and other uncommon things to reserve seats. Commonly seen in both genders. - Finally a case of gender equality to be recorded in history! Known to ask seated passengers to adjust to have some extra space for seating. Relenting people will be forced upon with hefty bodies - better to bend than to be broken by these characters.

    7.       The pensive onlooker: Handsome, educated, well built, with almost close to Brad Pitt looks who due to unfortunate twists of fate is travelling on trains and buses. Usually busy with useless thoughts about purpose of life, status of Indian economy, the prime ministerial election among other important thoughts of a near empty wallet, unemployment, increasing rates of mobile charges and bored single life. Sigh! That’s me.

    All attempts has been made by the writer not to insult anybody and to do justice to all characters. There are even more characters who can be described which I might have missed to notice. Feel free to write in! :)
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