The Taj

On the banks
of the Yamuna
a monument stands
a dedication
to the memory
of an undying love
a symbol of
a bygone era
a continuing inspiration
to the world
a work of art
an architectural marvel
the labour of many
inspired by
one persons love
a tomb for a beloved
a gift to the world
a picture so perfect
it awes the beholder
and each time
that I stand
in front of this
white marble wonder
there is more
than just the beauty
of the sight
that holds me spellbound
it is the thought
of the intensity
of the emotion
that inspired its creation
and the sadness of the man
whose gift to the world
was never seen
by the woman
that he loved.



Musings – ‘f l y’

Life is safer when you are living in the predictable zones,
but sometimes even for those who always wore helmets,
and seat-belts, and played by the rules, it gets all taken away,
and they get pushed over a cliff by the wild wind of destiny,

and as they fall, they hope for one of the two things –
either there is a deep sexy clear water body at the end,
and if not, then that crazy yank of a magical elastic
which will break the fall, much like in a real life bungee jump!

Well….unfortunately….that only happens on the TV.
But yup, what really happens is that as you fall,
you are set free as never before, and each moment
keeps becoming more enlightening the further you fall,

and in those seemingly lifelong moments
you suddenly don’t care whether it is the water
or the elastic that will come to the rescue,
for you see for the first time in your life
the possibility that you could even learn how to fly….
and the best is that as crazy as it may sound,
it is these very moments which inspire you to rise,
and sometimes in these you are even willing to try.

©Vidur Sahdev 2015

n o r m s

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When everything
is visible
is it not strange
that sometimes
it is the obvious
that does not
get noticed
the instinctive senses
misdirected by the mind
to find some semblance
of that
which does not exist
and obscure those
that are present
but blocked
by circumstances
hidden by the fear
of judgement
but which
by their nature
and peaceful presence
could connect
to heal and
awaken the soul.



The Artist

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A blank canvas
resting on an easel
waiting an eternity
for a splash of hues
then a tender stroke
of a sable brush
first one, and then another
till the stark white
remained visible, no more
what slowly appeared
was a story untold
the painter’s plan
through the brush in hand
now lay mapped out
in a confluence of colours
a meaning hidden
in the lines sketched
a joyous vibrancy
as the colours spread
new figures appeared
some subtle, some defined
the erstwhile white gone
a new vision declared
a deft stroke here
and a quick one there
some lines adjusted
some colours perfected
a look of satisfaction
and a smile escapes
as the brush gently held
still circles undecidedly
over the pallette
then one last dip
in the pool of colours
and a careful dab
before it finally rests
the blank space filled
the loose ends knotted
in live colourful blends
a transformation of what was
to another realm
arms folded across
he pensively stands back
the picture complete
another story begun
and as he turns around
a hearty chuckle be heard
for this was his art
the transformation
had just started
as each day passed
the lines would change
the visible would melt
and the hidden
would take form
the colours would mix
again and again
till the masterpiece
he envisioned
was ready to be framed.

My Belle

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She changes her hues
as frequently
as the moods
of a young city belle
From the blues
to the blacks
the scattered oranges
and the ochre streaks
to the sensual peaches
stolen from some
blushing cheeks
A pendent of gold
or a silver crescent
the gems of beyond
that shine brighter
than any of those
that could be owned
From a peaceful blue
to a thunderous dark
her expressions range
all the possible greys
She dances with the sea
flirts with the desert
and even caresses
the snow-capped peaks
her cloudy cloak
without a stitch
still holds
Her smile is sunshine
her tears of joy
my raindrops
and even
her sad smile

seems like

a rainbow to me.

Point of View

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User comments

And if I must, so I will

with malice to none

and a song on my lips

judge me you

with your experienced sight

nope it dont bother me

you’ll still have my smile

it is not a race

to be a step ahead for either

my road is not yours

and neither yours mine

you watch your step

and let me enjoy mine

your wisdom and your rules

I tried and applied

but my path is different

yours don’t work on mine

I’ll share a secret

that I heard from a creature of might

he said they come to see

on four wheels 

with an extra set of eyes

those that roam free amidst the nature

that breathes life itself

they feel superior in their armour

and in their intelligence

and yet they go back to their cages

of what they call life

he said perspective is relative

to which side you stand on

the ruled be free

or the free be the captive

for the the cage that holds

is not always knitted from a wire mesh

so I sing my song

on maybe a borrowed tune

but its my song nevertheless

find yours to sing

and maybe you’ll be free

and if we meet at a crossroads

I won’t judge your journey

because it wasn’t mine

and we’ll continue in different directions

because he also said this

that the path travelled less

is not for the faint hearted.