Tales of woe

 

After months of hard work didn’t bear fruit, he seemed despondent.

She too had nothing absolute, life seemed dishonest

but somehow they ended up across the same table,

as they say unstable finds unstable.

 

One had everything and aspired for more,

the other had nothing and wanted just a little.

Tales of woe were exchanged

and both realised, Life is a pickle.

 

She saw a guy with success, still not giving up on betterment.

He saw a girl with nothing to start yet, not ready for a settlement.

But none spoke it out loud and shared a thankful smile.

They got what they needed, at least for a while.

 

♦ Sometimes when two broken pieces meet they somehow fix each other with their shattered pieces.

आइना

आइना समेट रहा था, खुद को समेट लिया

 

 

एक टुटा आइना सच कह गया.
चेहरा नहीं पर दिल दिखा गया.
बिखरा जरूर पर
देखने वाला भी तो बिखरा ही था.
आइना जीता और बिखरा हार गया.

खुद को समेटना जो भूल गया था
वह अपने बिखरे आप को समेटने लगा.
किसे पता था…
पहली बार उसे कुछ अच्छा लगा.
दिल के दरार आईने पे आगये,
पर जैसे जैसे आइना समेटा
एक चेहरा सामने आया.
वह चेहरा उसने कही तो था देखा.

बहुत पहले. समेटा हुआ चेहरा.
अब उसे फिरसे वही चेहरा देखना है.
आईने के सामने खड़े होक खुद से कहना है,
की वह वापिस पहले जैसा हो गया है.
और किसी टूटे हुए आईने से कहना है,
वह गलत है, देखने वाला फिरसे पूरा हो गया है.

Deluded Hatred

 

Resident of gospel,

Hatred does rent a room

in every domicile.

Contrary to novel

and one of the strongest emotions,

Is it really vile?

No love can be realised

without Hatred being present.

It does not have to be hostile.

Perhaps a demarcation of personalities,

it safeguards an individual.

Just like every house has boundaries,

It maintains the much needed distance

between the better and the lesser.

 

Maybe Hatred was created to keep you away from someone who would make you miserable. Maybe it is not hostile. Maybe it does not have to be hostile. Maybe it is just a boundary.

-Nishant, The Poet and the Pen

Final showdown

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

उम्मीद

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.

Can I?

 

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.

बोलना

 

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

Post its on my wall

 

Hits can be derailing

And it takes time to get back.

As we end up trailing

Our paths seem to go black.

It feels like we are failing,

And that we have been giving slack.

Everything becomes overwhelming

That we start wishing if we could go back.

But…

Life isn’t streamlined

But a curve of ups and downs.

That timeline which we predefined

Never covers all the towns.

We never trail,

Neither do we actually fail

But gain lessons which weren’t expected.

So be proud of yourself and stop feeling dejected.

Old strings new tunes

In the deepest corner of my room

6 old strings stood from distant past.

It wasn’t an accident that I discovered

Something which was already there since the start.

Many fond memories ran like a reel

Inside the projector of my heart

And then suddenly I started to feel

As if a sin had been committed on my part.

Old tunes stopped and strings never reverberated

Because I gave up on them,

Fallacy got me distracted.

I gave up on them.

Music was lost after a while

And I had to fill that void with noise.

We never love something which is not our style

6 old strings were my choice.

But now I am back and they are still there

Waiting to be played.

With old strings and new tunes I today declare

Resumption of my parade.

Even in the loudest nights now,

My tunes shall not fade.

We always return to the place we belong. We always find the things which are meant for us. Even though we walk away from them, life gets us back to them and it is at that moment when we realise that it was all meant to be.

Nishant, The Poet and the Pen