Pehchaan / Identity

Pic : Self

mujhe kya pata
main kaun hoon,

ek waqt tha
jab chalta tha,
hatheli pe apna pata
khud likh kar,

jab bhi kho jaane
ka darr hota tha,
hatheli ko khol ke
padh leta tha,

phir mausam badla
baarish ne nyota diya,
main bhi chal padha
banjaara ban kar,

bheeg to gaya
bhool kar duniya ko,
par jab hatheli kholi
to koi pata na tha.

Translation in English:

How do I know who I am….

for there was a time, when I used to roam with my world ky address, written on the palms, and whenever I feared getting lost, all I had to do, was open and read my palm,

then one day, as the weather changed, the rains sent me a cordial invite, and I accepted it, from the depths of my vagabond heart,

I forgot the whole world as I danced in it’s pure cleansing downpour, but when I opened my palm, the written identity had washed away and erased.



Pic: Self

the fragility
of being human,
tested often
by its own kind,

or mental,
or the animalistic

each egged by
a soulless ego,
wanting to stamp
a never given right,

but rise
from the shadows
will the will
to survive,

the weak
beats the same,
as the weak
in the seeming strong,

but when
the broken rises,
it’s torturous calm,

it’s strength
is a bolt of lightening,
it’s heart
an armoured storm,

it strikes beyond
the boundaries,
of normal imagined

with a fire
which knowingly burns,
that which had
no qualms.

© vidursahdev 2018

…till we meet again

Pic : Self

After much contemplation and introspection, I decided to give the pen some rest, and take a break from writing, and WP.

When I wrote and posted ‘Unexplained Disappearances’ on 27 Nov.’17, I had no clue where it came from, and never thought it would be somewhat prophetic.

It has been a wonderful journey on WP for the last couple of years. In so many ways I discovered myself, and in as many ways I lost myself too.

Words happened, and I wrote,  connecting with strangers and faraway unknown faces. Sharing human depths, vulnerabilities and truths, which in so many ways we tend to ignore and sweep under the carpets in our real worlds.

People connect, and so did I, with so many of you. Some came, some went, some stayed. I grew beyond what I was, with the interactions that happened with all of you.

From the encouragement of the first ‘like’ on a post, to the thrill of the first ‘follower’. From a single-word comment, to a sentence of appreciation, all treasured for the encouragement they bestowed. It has truly been a journey worth more than the words read, and those written.

I wrote what came, but neither as a poet nor a philosopher. For those of you who saw it as poetry, I remain humbled and grateful, and will carry that title with me in my heart, for that entitles me to remain one of you forever.

On WP, I was privileged to read so many of you, feeling and connecting with your words, often more deeply than even my own. I remain indebted to you for sharing those wonderful and meaningful writings.

I was not very active on any other social media sites with regards to my writings, but some of us managed to connect through FB and/or Instagram over a period of time. We remain friends beyond the writings and WP. It would be my pleasure and privilege, if any of you choose to connect so in the future. My name/identity is the same across all of them.

As humbly as I started here, as humbly I take your leave. This probably has been the most difficult write for me on this blog, but as all journeys must end, so must this. Thrilled and happy that this was a really memorable one.

Wish you all good health, peace and happiness,and lots of love always!

One last bilingual verse for you, in Hindi and in English :-

na jaane kisne meri
siyahi ki shishi kahin chhupa di,

ab kalam ko paani mein
dubo dubo ke likhta hoon,

panna likhte likhte
alfaazon se bhar toh jaata hai,

par na khud
ab unhe padh paata hoon,

aur na hi kissi aur ko
unhe padhaa paata hoon.


i wonder
who hid
my bottle
of ink,

now i dip
my quill
in water
and write,

though the sheet
gets filled
with the words
that fall,

but niether
am i able to
read them myself

nor am i able to
make anyone else
read them



…till we meet again. 🙂


h i d d e n

Pic : Self

i am
more than
the me
you see,

but paints
i splashed
words written,

to distract
ignorant eyes
from the essence,

truth hidden
on a painter’s canvas
to be deciphered,

naturally attract
the passing

the visible surface
seen by all
but beneath
the layers,

read by none.




Oh Sun

Pic : Self

even the earth
needs time off
from you,
oh my dear
shining sun,

though you be
the energy, the light
and the warmth,
that keeps
it alive,

but all life
living on it,
still needs
a break
from you,

you may
be good
to see,
and thank
on another day,

and as punctual,
as only
you are,

but its time
for me to rest too now,
for the moon
awaits to weave
more dreams,

till the next dawn
when you’ll challenge
that weave again,
oh dear sun
its adieu from me.




i n t r o s p e c t i o n

Pic : Self

i could have
lied to myself,
as this world often
conditions us
to do,

i could have saved the ego
from the risk,
and let intentions
remain weak,
lost in the dark,

to someday breathe
an air of regrets,
where you would have
asked me a why,
or maybe a why not,

so i chose to stretch
this temporary neck,
the strength
of the bones it holds,

pretence was never
my strength to show,
where the flow
of energy
is a stranger known,

i like to have
my feet in the sand,
of the waves
rocking me to and fro,

its the sinking to a point
that i love,
and the confidence
that beyond it
me, it will hold,

i dont look for answers
that my eyes can’t feel,
for some said words lie,
beyond the logics
of this visual time,

yet there exists
which holds value,
in the here and now
as well as in the beyond,

you and i
are a tiny bit
in this
evolving realm,

you everyday
seem to grow,
into the sea
and sands
that so well i know,

so i let myself go,
to sink is easy,
and not everyone knows
how to hold,

for eyes here
often seek more,
than what they know
they can meaningfully




d i s c o l o u r e d

Pic: Self

i squeeze

to the
every bit
of strength
i have,

and as

i realise,
seeped in
too deep,

of it’s walls.