Wayfarer by Bharath Upendra

A close up of a man's foot as he walks in the sand
Image Source: Snappa

Often times I wonder what it’d be like, if we belonged to someone. The warmth of a bonfire heart, the tender bliss of one skin against another. How does it feel when patterns overlap? When colours are in harmony, like on grandma’s rug? The smell of home, the touch of grass, the recklessness of the world; is there a way to know? Or do I go with the flow? Somewhere along the way, I saw candies. I wonder what they taste like. A tint of freedom in a child’s eyes, that rusty bicycle ride and lyrics oblivious of the song… Please, show me the way.


Bharath Upendra considers himself a regular Joe who unapologetically talks about the usual and obvious. Writing to him is like an uninvited guest who still hasn’t left and to whom he’s gotten used to anyway.

You can find more of his writing at Bharath’s Banter where he speaks his mind and writes his heart.

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11 Comments Add yours

  1. Jeff Flesch says:

    Beautiful layers of textures and feeling. Lovely.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Terveen Gill says:

    Bharath speaks of life and its passing moments in a warm and contemplative manner. It is a journey traveled alone but with lighthearted and blissful moments. He is an experienced writer who says it as it is.
    Congratulations Bharath!


  3. Thank you, ma’am. I was looking forward to Th is.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Nawazish says:

    Beautifully written

    Liked by 1 person

  5. brittabenson says:

    This is beautiful. Such lovely, poetic prose that reveals many more layers over time, once you let it sink in. This piece gets bigger and better with every reading. Thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Very well written. I loved it,keep the good work on.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. There is an absolutely lovely tinge of melancholy in these verses. It touches one with warmth and longing.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. I love this. I truly believe that humans belong to each other, but we are too blind to see. We are the free children running away on the bike, but we fail to see that we could not run so far, so fast, and so free without our rusty, red bike. Thanks for sharing. These words inspired me.

    Liked by 1 person

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