Poetry

Pic : Self

When the
stormy clouds
of your normally
peaceful mind,
hold more weight
than they can
retain,

I am the words
that fall
like incessant
rain,

when the
continuing silence
of your own voice,
goes beyond
the realms
of what the heart
can contain,

I am the words
that fall
like incessant
rain,

when the
expanse of love
is a sea within,
seeking it’s share
of reciprocation
from the universe’s
expanse,

I am the words
that fall
like incessant
rain,

when the insides
are scorched
by a relentless drought,
and the fumes
of the vaporous soul
are too much
to bear,

I am the words
that fall
like incessant
rain.

© vidursahdev 2018

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Water

Pic : Self

when
water
flows,
where
does
it go,

does
it lose
itself
to the
earth’s
thirst,

or does it
merge
with the seas
till it is
no longer
it,

does
it feed
those,
that need
to be
alive,

or does it
play each
role,
knowing
nothing
can change,

what it
inherently
is.

© vidursahdev 2018

Liquid

Stay

Pic : Self

Stay
away
from me,

for i am just
an incomplete
song,

making up
lyrics
along the way,

the melody changes
with the hues
of the sky,

my tears
and smiles
utterly inconsistent,

like the clouds
that rain
and the waning moon,

Stay
away
from me,

i am just
a partly
coloured canvas,

discovering
life’s daily
strokes and smudges,

no longer
bothered
by what a day covers,

and in a world
that puts prices
on completed works,

i’ll probably
never add value
to your collection of art.

© vidursahdev 2018

To my daughter, Niyati

You are
my heartbeat
that beats afar,
away;
yet
very much within,
the breaths
I take,

birth
to toddler,
milk teeth
to the empty spaces
in your smile,
pulling your
hair out,
to kicking the hell
out of my dreams
at night,

yes Niyati,
out of the two
that happened
to me,
I remain thankful
you pulled your’s,
and maybe
thats why
I still have
some
left of mine,

a fire bright,
but with
the gentleness
of a mouse,
creative to the core,
colors and music,
passions
that I hope,
continue to
enflame
your heart,

memories
of strawberries
‘n’ cream,
served before
bedtime,
to sweeten
dreams,
on those
difficult
and uncharted
nights,

I marked
on the walls
as you gained
in hieght,
missed
the last few spurts,
but I always
did hope
you’d grow taller,
than any
markable,
limiting
concrete walls,

and someday
I know,
your own identity
will justify,
this strangely ordained
difficult time out,
maybe
we both needed
to discover,
our own colours
in this little life,
and thats how
and why,
it so
panned out,

I hold you now,
as I always did,
and maybe
not today,
but the daughter
in you
someday will,
understand
the answer
to this
inexplicable riddle,
we both
found ourselves
circumstantially
perplexed with,
(and I can almost
hear you call out
to Didi for help to
decipher that!)

you remain
a colour
that is me
in so many ways,
but I guess
you needed
to discover,
your own shades
your own light,
and the notes
that make
you sing,

I hope you do
shine,
in all the ways
that you can,
and I pray
that
the worldly glitter,
never gets to dull
that inherently
peaceful you,
nor
your eternal
internal
soulful light.

Happy Sixteenth,
Loads of love, Always!

23rd March, 2018

Musings : Paheli/Paradox

Pic : Self

koi dhoondta hai
pyaar,
aur agar usse
mil jaaye,
toh phir usme
wafaa,

koi leke chalta hai
hatheli pe
sajaaye wafaa,
ke koi usse
pyaar
de toh de.

Translation in English:

there are those
who search for love,
and if they find it
they hope
it is strong enough
to hold
their trust,

and there are those,
who know
the sanctity
of that trust,
and wait for a love
to test it
to the hilt.

© vidursahdev 2018

Ink and Blood

Pic : Self

kehte hain dil ka dard likhne wale,
baha dete hain rakht apni kalam se yun,

hum ne toh ek aam siyahi se hi
bayaan haal-e-dil ka likh dala,

rakht to gham-e-judai mein dooba
barson pehle hi sookh gaya,

padh sako to padh lena
iss siyahi mein bhi kai rang
chhipe hain huzoor,

warna rakh dena isse
baizzat, kahin aisi jagah par,

jahan agli baarish mein
ye khud-b-khud, dhul jayega,

siyahi ka mol agar na bhi sahi,
panne ka mol toh mil hi jayega.

Translation in English:

It is said that those who write their heart’s pain, bleed blood through their quills,

but i used an ordinary ink to write, the deepest laments of my heart,

the blood within, drowned in the sorrow of your parting, had long died and dried,

read if you will, the words even in this ordinary ink, still hold a number of varied colours,

else leave this sheet, with respect to the emotions, somehere where the next rain will wash it off,

so what if the words were worthless to you, at least the clean sheet will recover it’s worth.

© vidursahdev 2018