Bookmark

 

On the seat right next to mine

there was an old & torn book.

Faded ink on it spoke of a time,

Long gone now. It seemed bespoke.

Out of habit to turn pages,

My eyes started running over the faded words.

A few pages later there was a bookmark

on which written were these words…

Once you read, place the marker into the next page

and write a few lines about yourself,

Become a part of the book of age.

Keep it back on the seat, this was never meant for a bookshelf.

Upon doing as instructed I figured, I was reader number 511.

The book once belonged to this traveller

Who wished to meet the World.

Alas! he could not for time ran out. He was a believer.

He was reader number 001

and now I was a part of his world.

We need it

 

It was raining that night.

Sky didn’t have stars

but my eyes were bright

for they had been seeking something.

It was after a long battle,

not of swords but of emotions.

While the face didn’t show, Heart was rattled

and the ability to stand was under erosion.

But then it happened unexpectedly,

I got what I was searching for.

For a while time stopped happily,

It was a hug that I had longed for.

Could you just?

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.

क्या तुमने वह बात सुनी

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.

Sleepless in…

 

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

Nightly Fiasco

♦ Hey, it’s almost night time here. Ready for those post 2 a.m. thoughts?

 

As the Sun settles down,

It takes away a part of us.

The part which keeps us sound,

The part which we show to the world.

And when the Moon takes the sky,

It showers a light on us.

Silver light which brings out something…

Something which we don’t discuss.

Night time does have this affect,

And these thoughts are the most private ones.

But when it starts to overwhelm,

Close your eyes and end the pretense.

Eventually sleep will engulf your realm

And in dreams these thoughts will make sense.

If they don’t, tell yourself : “It was just a dream.”

 

 

Pluto

I loved you like one of mine,

But you remained distant, always.

My care never shined,

On your dark and cold surface.

I never wanted you to suffer,

A fate that would make you alone.

But your misalignment made it tougher,

Eventually losing you a space in my home.

You became Pluto,

The discarded and outcasted one.

Because you never valued your own,

You were always special to someone.

My talk with a Ghost

Based on True Events! Read at your own risk.

 

For some reason I was alone that night.

In a 3 bedroom apartment only 1 had lights.

Devoid of my sleep whom I had strangely met earlier,

Devil’s workshop, my mind started the game, “Wrong or Right?”.

Whilst I was hovering over ancient subjects,

Door to my room squeaked open.

Never had I ever been so perplexed,

And then that ghastly silence got broken.

 

“Still awake, I see. I thought I’ll find you asleep,

Is today different somehow?, because

Usually you are sound asleep.”

I lost my voice and my choice,

And locked were my eyes.

A devilish figure was in rejoice,

While I kept reminding myself, these are all lies.

Pulled a chair and sat right across me,

A face I can never assimilate.

Said he was I, here to see me,

And customize my fate.

He looked like the evil I see in me,

Grimly smile with the perfect word.

Nudged so that I turn my head,

There I was, sleeping on my bed.

It was a meeting of the ghost and the spirit,

Who both come at night.

One helps to build while the other only exhibits,

My talk with a ghost was basically every Wrong or Right.

अकेला कौन है?

Alone, being lonely is as they say, a state of mind.

Let me prove it to you.

 

 

अकेला कौन है?
जब भी किसीने कुछ नया करना चाहा
वो अकेला रहा.
जब भी किसीने अपने मन से जीना चाहा
वो अकेला रहा.
जब भी किसीने अपने आप से सच कहा
वो अकेला रहा.
जब भी किसीने सच सुन्ना चाहा
वो अकेला रहा.

अकेला क्यों रहा?

दुनिया के कुछ नियम और कानून है,
जो मानता है बस उसे ही मालूम है,
खुद को अगर आईने में देख सकते हो तोह,
बात मेरी तुम्हे मालूम है.

अपने शर्तो पे जीना सीखा,
अपनी बात को कहना सीखा,
जो सही लगा वही पूछना सीखा,
बिना झिजक के उड़ना सीखा.

किया वही जो मान से आया,
सुन्ना उसी को जिसको हमने समझाया,
सही चलने की कोशिश में कही,
अपने आपको अकेला पाया.

अकेला हुआ पार अकेला नहीं था,
साथ कभी कम नहीं था,
जब सन्नाटा छाया चारो और,
दर लगा पर साथ वही था.

साथ कौन था?

साथ थी मेरे वो यादें,
वो नजाने कितनी सीख और बाते,
बचपन से जो संजोया था वो,
आईने से करता था बाते.
में अकेला पड़ा पर में नहीं गया
काफी कुछ सहा और काफी कुछ कहा,
बेकार फ़िज़ूल का दर था मेरा,
क्युकी में खुद को ही भूल गया.

अकेला कौन है?
अकेला कोई नहीं, अकेली सोच है.
विकलांग करने वाली चोट है.
जब भी लगे अकेलापन सा,
खुद को ढूँढना बाकी सब खोट है.