Vagabond

Pic : Self

In a world
of endless journeys
i took paths
wherein
some twists
and unexpected turns
deprived
me of
the road that was
advocated
to be
the safest
to travel on,

charted paths
with
historical evidence
of multitudes
of travellers
reaching
and achieving
their perceived
goals
in line
with dictums
of society
at large,

and i wandered unknowingly
into forests unknown
where familiarity
of preached doctrines
no longer aids
my steps
but the mind
now alive
bewitched
with the endless
possibilities
of just being
a vagabond.

© vidursahdev 2018

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The Fabric of Life

Pic : Self

Unweaving woven threads
sometimes a necessity,

borne out of,
deceptive materials at large,

fingers deft
at putting them together,

now fumble
and quiveringly linger,

to undo their
own painstaking craft,

broken strands
can’t hold others,

weaken even those
that run their course,

and over time
the holes only grow,

Now undone,
each thread on its own,

time for the culprits
to be let go,

the fingers search
with experienced eyes,

for threads that love
being intertwined,

to weave a new fabric
once again from the start,

resilient in each strand
that’ll make its core,

and together those
that now shall meet,

will withstand,
the ominous tests of time.

© vidursahdev 2018

Birdie and Me

Pic : Self

there is no
difference
between you
and me,

as we sit
perched,
clutching the
thin lines
that run across
different worlds,

our momentary
presences,
often invisible
to eyes focussed
on their own
existence,

like innate props,
on a stage
full of actors,
we silently observe
more
than we say,

and when
the sun
dims the lights,
we retire
to our own
hidden worlds,

my lamp
comes on
to tease
the night,
thoughts to ponder
and some to write,

and I often wonder
what you’d
have to say,
if tonight i could
share my pen
with you,

for you see more
than i ever will,
my flights
of fancy
limited to
my thoughts,

but you
little birdie,
do have
the wings.

© vidursahdev 2018

Soul Song

Pic : Self

She sits by the sea
glowing in the sands,

both kissed
by the setting sun,

singing softly
to the passing breeze,

the borrowed lyrics
to a soulful song,

the passersby
momentarily stall,

to listen to the skills
of her vocal chords,

moving on unimpressed
with a silent scoff,

for her notes miss
the high cliffs often,

sounding as chaotic
as the rising tide,

but she oblivious
of the unsaid critique,

continues lost
in her own delight,

inspired by the moment
that exists around,

and the fading sun
ignores the notes,

lingering a bit longer
to hear her song,

a lullaby to carry
for the long night ahead,

the spontaneous outpour
of her happy soul.

© vidursahdev 2018

Maybe

Pic : Self

Maybe…
in the end
it is just
a comedy of errors,

seemingly stressful
to all
the wonderful
actors,

yet harmless
to the picture
that’s larger
than the screen,

holding temporary
consequences
till the curtains
are up,

Maybe…
in the end
it is just role
to be played,

with unscripted
dialogues
and endless
emotions to portray,

each one an artist
with his own
pallete
of a heart,

and a party awaits
those
who are
done with their parts,

Maybe…
in the end
when the costumes
are off,

those tired souls
too
will get their
last laugh,

when backstage
the radio
will knowingly
play aloud,

and two
will dance
to what was always
their song.

© vidursahdev 2018

Ruminations

Pic : Self

how would you know me
just by my face,
how would you know me
just by my words,
one was a given
and the other just flows,

walk in my shoes
for a day in my life,
there is a long story
to the words that I write,
how else will you know
when you find my walls,
the pictures that hang there
once used to talk,
the cups that now lie empty
used to be full to the top,
with conversations endless
and laughter galore,
moments of madness
and moments of life,

walk in my shoes
for a day in my life,
for how else will you know
the meanings I hide,
the smiles that shine
over the rivers that flow,
reflections are in plenty
but none that can be held,
the words maybe simple
but interpretations untold,
everything sounds good
yet nothing seems right,
sounds can be deafening
and silences a fright,

walk in my shoes
for a day in my life,
and the sunset
will tell you,
what the sunrise
never could.

© vidursahdev 2018