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.

Underrated Hero

 

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.

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.

Together!

Just a few more days!

 

 

Never before have we faced this,

A pandemic that stunted all of us together.

Every one of us should note this,

We will go down in history together.

Men, Women, Children, I ask you all

Let us go down as victors.

Let us become that generation

Which the future will call healers.

 

Let us hide our pain behind a mask,

Let us clean our hands before we meet,

Let 6 feets of distance prevail in each task,

Let us reduce walking on the street.

Let us ensure proper hygiene,

Let us make sure to help the needy,

Let us keep every inch of our house clean,

Let us just be ready.

 

And soon one day we will walk,

Walk without a mask

Walk without any fear

Hug every friend

Hold every dear.

Eat without being scared

Work without any boundaries

Go on trips which we had planned

Make a fresh set of memories.

#200: 1012 steps

20th June 2017, the day I wrote my first Post. 1012 days have passed and here we are. I cannot tell you how much have changed over these 1012 days.

On the suggestion of a friend, I opened my diary to the World and frankly, I haven’t looked back ever since. Thanks https://6stringsandanotebook.wordpress.com for making me do it.

What started as fun and on a casual note has become something so special, personal and important to me. The Poet and the Pen is not just my blog but it is my way of being what I am truly and deeply.

So, as I compose my 200th Poem, I just want to say a big Thank You to all my readers, followers, blogs whom I follow for letting me be a part of this amazing sphere, blogosphere.

“Read to know…know to read”

 

The Road ahead

Distance that we travel is always remembered,

But it is the number of steps which count.

Some towards and some away from our goals,

Nonetheless, a journey is thus found.

 

Therefore, it is futile to talk about time,

What matters is what you see.

In a single second you can live a lifetime,

If you step wisely and let things be.

 

Look around, there is a lot to be found,

Appreciate before they fade.

Every moment, movement and sound,

Will help you one day to find a shade.

 

Let your footprints guide the tomorrow,

The Road ahead will keep telling you how.

Smile in happiness and also in sorrow,

Even the mountains will one day bow.

 

Let yours be the journey of movement,

One who lived every moment.

Be patient and persistent,

The Road ahead is even more extravagant.

The Darkest Hour

Stuck in the worst possible place in your life?

Great!

No, I am not sadist, just Read or Listen to know why.

🙂

The Darkest Hour

When the night was dark I saw my bright self.

Nothing and everything seemed so clear.

Pursuit for betterment kept me breathing,

As the night ensured I face my fear.

 

Blooded armour seemed like a robe,

Sweats and tears as medals,

Gloomy night became inspiring,

And thorns became rose petals.

 

Night is darkest just before the dawn,

And not specific to the earthly sky.

From tough times Courage is drawn,

Perhaps day breaks as the bird fly.

Silence before the Storm

I have always noticed one thing. Before a storm breaks, there is silence. An unusual peace, calmness, and overall soothing atmosphere persists.

The calmer the silence, the violent the storm.

Translating the same to our lives and bringing both silence and a storm, Let me put things into perspective.

 

We often crib about our misery,

Unhappy with a certain storm.

At those times turn towards chivalry,

And wait for the right platform.

Night precedes day, fire precedes ash,

Anger precedes sorry all in a flash.

And just like that Storm precedes peace.

Yet we remain oblivious and rash.

Keep calm and remember the said lines,

For if there is misery today, tomorrow will be fine.

Storm only visits to test our spine,

Don’t be a stubborn tree, be a smart vine.