वह हस्सी अब धुंदली दिखती है,
जिस पर मुझे नाज़ हुआ करता था…
आँखे भी अब कहा सच देखती है,
सच न जाने क्या हुआ करता था…
जब रौशनी गिरती है चेहरे पे,
उसके पीछे का अँधेरा ज्यादा दिखता है…
सुबह का सूरज नया दिन नहीं लाता,
रात की नींद दिन में मिलती है…
फिर भी यह दुनिया चलती है.
और चलना भी चाइये, क्युकि सही है.
बस एक बार यह धुंधलापन मिट जाये,
वह हस्सी यही कही छिपी है.
It’s like wanting some air to breathe
and stay still for a minute or two.
Allow me to pass please
for I am tired to continue.
Where can I find that open ground
with no one lurking around
and scream at the top of my voice
without being question bound?
All this pretension is making me sick,
Every person has to offer some or the other trick
but all I want is to be left alone for a while
because I know what I need to fix.
My voice is only heard when it is answering
to the questions I incur.
It is like I have stopped talking to myself now
because my space has been invaded somehow.
Let me hear my voice again
with utmost silence everywhere
and allow me to talk it out
because lately, seclusion is all that I can think about.
Leave me alone for a while, fellow dwellers.
Let me grieve for a while, fellow strangers.
Let me speak to the one in the mirror
and help that man in getting better.
Let me be.
It was the last time we ever gazed
into each other’s eyes.
Gone are those days
and life is what it is today.
But before we turned around
and walked our separate paths
there was this moment…
It was just this moment
when we both realised,
A good rival is also very important.
A good enemy helps you to improve.
-Nishant, The Poet and the Pen
कहते है उम्मीद लगाना अच्छी बात नहीं. में कहता हु यह बात सही नहीं.
उम्मीद
मेरी एक आदत बहुत बुरी है
मुझे उम्मीद रहती है
और कही न कही सबसे रहती है.
गलती उसकी नहीं जिससे उम्मीद हो
क्युकि उसे तो पता भी नहीं.
बस मेरे ही मन में दबी रहती है.
बहुत समझाता हु खुद को
उम्मीद खुद से कर दुसरो से नहीं.
पर क्या करू? हो जाती है,
सबको होती है, उम्मीद…
हर बात की कोई न कोई वजह जरूर होती है,
मेरी उम्मीद की भी है और
जो उसपे खरे नहीं उतरते उनके भी.
बस इतनी सी बात ही समझनी होती है.
यह ऐसा खेल है जो शायद ही कोई जीत पता है,
और शायद इसमें हारना ही सही है,
क्युकि उम्मीद वही लगा पता है
जिससे दुसरो की उम्मीदें जुडी है.
It starts from the day we come into this world
and after that it lasts forever.
Father is not just a relation
but a journey full of sacrificing endeavours.
We cannot thank you enough, ever.
You never stop watching over us, do you?
My childhood pictures were taken only by you.
In adolescence we walk right next to you, holding your finger
and in teenage, despite wanting to be alone, your watchful eyes linger.
No matter how old we get, you remain our silent singer .
Underneath that tough and quiet exterior
we all know that you are soft hearted just like mom.
Yet your wish to make us better
asks you to take tough calls. How do you do it?
That parent who accepts resentment for his child’s betterment.
Perfect balance of love and lectures, teacher and friend,
at times harsh but always fair,
Father you are hard to comprehend.
I pretend to be like you when I sit on your chair
and feel that overwhelming pressure that you withstand.
No child can ever document their father’s role
because there are some things you just cannot express.
Words too have limitations after all
Unlike my Father’s worry when I am a mess.
Father, the person we fail to call.
All we can say is a Thank You
and we will try to be a bit more like you.
It will be tough but it will be worth it.
Even though we don’t say this enough,
Father, we really really Love You.
You cannot say anything about this one man because he knows you more than you know yourself. He is your Father.
-Nishant, The Son.
Often in the evening strolls
a realisation sneaks up
which recalls something really tough.
Should I continue or give up?
The stigma of latter can be rough
but what if I am fed up?
Nothing will ever be enough.
Characterisation has made it hard to give up
even on something which makes me miserable.
So I started to bluff to myself…
The worst kind of gamble.
Please don’t berate me for leaving now.
I tried but couldn’t finish somehow.
Only a human, I am.
I wish I had a backspace key now.
Regardless of what they say,
What they say does matter.
Let me find a better way,
Allow me to choose the latter.
I shall come back better,
I shall come back brighter,
I will feel honest and lighter.
Giving up does not make me any less of a fighter.
If something makes you miserable, there is no shame in giving it up. Giving up to try something new is actually a sign of bravery.
-Nishant, The Poet and the Pen.
Did you know?
No, I know you did not.
Did it show?
Yes, but no one took a note.
What now?
Sorry, You already forgot.
How?
That’s what we were taught.
First learn to see, listen, empathize & care. Rest will follow.
-Nishant, The Poet and the Pen.
Mental Health, one of my blog’s primary focus, is no joke. To all those who are reading and to The Poet and the Pen family, I request you to please share your pain if you have any. Don’t keep it inside you. I am here.
क्या तुमने वह बात सुनी
अरे वही जो में इतने दिनों से कह रहा था ?
अगर सुनते तो शायद पूछना न पड़ता.
अच्छा यह बताओ, अब सुन रहे हो
या अब भी सुनाई नहीं दे रही ?
या शायद तुम्हे कोई फर्क ही नहीं पड़ता.
अब तो मुझे भी फर्क नहीं पड़ता,
न किसी और से न अपने आप से.
शायद में कुछ दिन और लड़ता,
अगर में यह जंग समझ सकता.
सब कुछ समझ आ जाये यह तो जरुरी नहीं,
ज़िन्दगी सबकी सवार जाये यह तो जरुरी नहीं,
घिरा हुआ होने से अकेलापन दूर हो जाये यह तो जरुरी नहीं,
मेरी बिना आवाज़ वाली बात तुम्हे सुनाई दे जाये, यह तो जरुरी नहीं.
खैर, आपसे मिलके बहुत अच्छा लगा,
आता रहूँगा आपके नज़रो में कभी कबार.
किसी और का तो पता नहीं पर मुझे मेरा दर्द सच्चा लगा,
इसीलिए पूछ रहा हु एक आखिरी बार…
क्या तुमने वह बात सुनी.
I know this feeling. I have been through this as well. Yes, I was once depressed.
I know that you want to share and that you think no one is there but trust me, I am.
If you want to share anything with me through any way whatsoever, just reach out.
-Nishant, The Poet and the Pen.
It has been a while now.
That loop which got broken
Refuses to get fixed.
I am devoid of sleep.
Even though my eyes want,
they refuse to stay shut.
Sleeplessness haunts,
Inability hurts.
I do not know if I am alright,
Just that I am tired deep inside.
I hope that tonight
it won’t hide. Sleep.
I cannot sleep.
-Nishant, The Poet and the Pen
केह दो जाके उनसे
समय अब उल्टा बहेगा.
शब्दों से नहीं पर मन से,
कोई अपनी बात कहेगा.
लिखा तो सब पढ़ लेंगे,
पर मन की बात सिर्फ वही सुनेंगे
जिनके लिए जरुरी होगी.
अब और बातें अधूरी नहीं रहेगी.
मुझसे पूछना मत और न ही में बताऊंगा,
बस आँखों को देखना और में केह जाऊंगा.
हस्सी और आंसू में घंटो तक कही
गुंगा बनके अपनी कहानी लिख जाऊंगा.
और तुम्हे भी जवाब सही लगेगा
क्युकि वही तुम चाहते होंगे.
गलत फैमि का अफ़सोस ही नहीं रहेगा…
जब मन से कोई अपनी बात कहेगा.
Since we only hear what we want to hear, why don’t we just communicate with our eyes?
-Nishant, The Poet and the Pen
