About Nishant Gang

An engineer who finds joy, comfort and peace by writing Poems. Come with me and escape the reality word by word.


I love winters. I hate pulp. I prefer shoes over sandals. I this, I that and so on.

Yes, we are all about opinions. Our character which we so potently try to flaunt or hide, depending on the evaluation report we see fit, is in fact a reflection of the opinions we hold so dearly.

Now, there is a small issue, bud. “Opinions”, what feeling comes to your mind when I say this word?

Stop reading and first, comment your feeling below before your decide to go ahead with the post. (be fair, bud).

In my mind I find that the word Opinion instigates a very defensive feeling in the hearer’s mind. Why?, let me think about it. If you find the answer, do let me know. 😛

Okay, enough with the content writing now, let’s do what I do always… Write a POEM!!!


Like the water of the stream we see from time to time,

Life brings with it lessons and events

which do make up for what we call as living

but also leaves something behind, like scents.

These scents, foul or fragrant, then attracts

fauna with whom we grow and live and breathe.

Alike ones are liked while most drift away,

It is not so difficult, this debate

“Why those who stay, stay.”

Opinions are what we all emanate

and that foul or fragrant too

depends on the inhaler.

Why shouldn’t it?

Everyone has opinions.



Under whose Court do you find yourself regularly

defending your honour and actions?

In the chase to live a guilt free life

you deem yourself guilty, basis dubious perceptions.

Convicting a soul which is yours.

Guilt free cannot be if you plead guilty.

Understand that in a world of 7.5 billion,

there exists 7.5 billion courts and judges.

You can therefore let yourself off the hook,

no matter how clean, you will end up with smudges.

To live freely which we all so desire,

we must not see ourselves as criminals

for they aren’t meant to be free.

Deeds will anyway catch up.

Renounce the book of law

which was made as per notion.

True law is above all and covers each,

Guilt free is a rare emotion.

Let them Bee

A busy bee while seaking nectar

came flying to my garden today.

Asked me if it could take some

for creating the honey, which I love by the way.

Upon agreement it started to work

and work my god it did that day.

Several trips from my garden to it’s hive

it made for just a teaspoon of honey, they say.

Nature and it’s workers, fascinating as they are,

Gave me honey and pollinated my flowers

Just to thank me for doing nothing, bizarre.

Nature and it’s workers, take so less and bestow so much.

Bee which is renowned and killed for stinging

is mearly asking, Do not touch.

Only to give us, the sweet honey we love so much.

Poetry Series: Episode:3

Title: Sense

So we take pride in our feat

and boast of our struggles

while humanity continues to deplete.

Doesn’t make much sense, does it?

Capable is incapacitated

and fraudulent is celebrated

while morals are being preached.

Doesn’t make much sense. does it?

Chivalry is considered as unusual

and profanity is accepted

while etiquettes are dictated.

Doesn’t make much sense, does it?

Sadly, that’s the world we live in.

Unfortunately, that’s the norm we believe in.

Alas! that’s the nature of today:

Doesn’t make sense but still okay.


To break off and fly away

in the wind of mayhem

is one of the many desires.

Not choose the way

and turn deaf towards the voices of condemn,

for once not be an absolute liar.

To land where vision hadn’t envisioned

and be the seed of dandelion,

when o’when, emancipation.

Subtle Stories: Loss and Gain

This story is about loss and gain. There comes a time in each of our lives when we feel that all is lost. Life seems dull and the world around looks like the reel we draw out of a camera.

Let me ask you this, how can you say that you have gained or lost something before you reach the end of your book? For people who love accounts, without all the entries in the book, the final statement cannot determine whether we have lost or gained something.

So, the story goes something like this…

College was over and everyone was busy saying their goodbyes. Aarman was sitting quietly at the stairs of the Student Plaza, the most happening place of the college.

Friends: Hey Aarman, What happened? Everyone is saying their goodbyes to each other and you are sulking here all alone. Come, let’s meet everyone perhaps for one last time.

Aarman: No, you guys carry on. I want to be alone for a while.

*Aarman didn’t really mean that but you know how it can be. Others couldn’t resist the temptation of being with their classmates for a final time but Faizal saw the pain in his best friend’s eyes.*

Faizal: What happened brother? What is stopping you?

Aarman: Dude, I lose people. Always. School, then friends from my neighbour and now College. It’s like a fixed pattern. I make friends only to lose them. Why?

Faizal: Aarman, do you regret the friends you met over the years?

Aarman: No, obviously not. Mad or what?

Faizal: Why?

Aarman: What do you mean, why? I have so many good memories with each of my friends. I love and treasure each of those memories.

Faizal: Exactly. Keep this point in your mind.

You see, you had to let some of your old friends go so that the new ones could come. While the letting go part sucks and you feel exactly what you are feeling right now but then again, you make new friends and memories when you welcome the new ones in your life.

Are you with me?

Aarman: Yeah, I guess so.

Faizal: Aarman, Life is a collection of moments and moments are made from heart. You see the down side of here but I want you to turn your head and imagine all the friends you have made over the past 20 years standing right in front of you. Can you do that?

*Aarman closes his eyes and pictures all his friends from today and yesterday standing in front of him.*

Faizal: Now imagine you favourite moments with them.

*While Aarman does that, Faizal sees a smile on his face and a drop of tear rolling down his cheeks. A happy tear, he could tell.*

Faizal: Brother, Life takes a lot and I know that. But it also gives back. You made many friends, good friends, even family. You shared an amazing time with them. You made numerous memories with them which no one can take from you but everything has to pass and so did your friendships.

Life is a Loss and Gain statement for the more your lose the more you gain. It’s up to you to decide if you want to cry about that fact that you will never get to see your old friends again or be excited about the memories which you will make with the new ones.

And yes, distance may reduce communication but when it comes to friendship, each and every true friend of yours is still there. Whenever you will see them, both of you will have a smile on your faces. Friendships don’t fade, people just get caught up in life. That’s all.

So if you look at it, you are at a Huge Profit with very minor losses. And even your losses have left a lot behind for you.

*On hearing this, Aarman breaks down in tears and hugs his best friend from college.*

Aarman: Lets go Faizal, I need to see my classmates one last time.

~The End~

Task of the day

Certainly, there must be something

which we ought to do today.

Don’t want to miss that, do we?

Let’s name it, task of the day.

But how to learn about it every day

for there are 100s of task we think and say.

Perhaps that is intentional to avoid complacency.

Perhaps most tasks are for some or the other day.

The question then arises, which one to do and which one to delay?

Let’s meet Situation, our ever present guest to stay.

Before bed, how would we know if it was a perfect day?

Don’t ask others, just look at your tomorrow’s task of the day.

Significant ‘s End


And it kept spinning while everything stood still,

for a brief period sound went mute.

Every insignificant became bright

due to the light of reminiscence.

Cluster of calls from a time now gone

was the only thing audible.

An event that occurs at the done

and thankful I shall be, forever.

A life which seemed long till then,

seemed shorter than ever

as memories kept spinning here and there.

Yes, it became a memory to care.

The cursed art


The art or curse of overthinking

is a flabbergasting avenue.

Introduces to the ridiculous

in which we sometimes find the new

but at the cost of walking through

some of the darkest alleys.

Source of some of the best stories,

Overthinking really does feel

the way it is right now.