Once upon a time…

 

Every day is a start.

It’s up to us to decide the one

Which will play the cardinal part

To a story which has begun.

 

Or maybe we can have two stories,

With one start and two endings.

Every story embodies,

So many characters who are pretending.

 

One life is lead by each

Yet many versions of it are later preached.

Same characters but with different speech,

Oh wait, no story remains unbreached.

 

Start is one but point is different.

Ending for them is when we choose not to understand.

Your story you may not understand,

Because Once upon a time is perceived, not planned.

And just like that…

Plans never end,

Dreams never stop changing.

There is always something to attend

And Earth keeps revolving.

And then one day,

Just like that…

It all stops

When that line goes flat.

But before it does,

Stroll through your days with a smile.

Let it last for a while.

Occasionally tears will drop by

But that’s okay.

Tears eventually dry.

And just like that… life goes by.

Crack in the Roof

 

Farthest corners have been held

for far too long now.

That roof is cracking

and there is so much snow.

Long held, water is dripping now

damping everything I know.

During sunlight of the summer

I barely feel the trouble

but now that I am cold,

the collapse seems inevitable.

But this is my home

and I shall go down with it, if need be.

Until then I’ll fix those cracks

which only the house owner can see.

In my mind I am not me

An unsettling unsure persona

Of self is conflicting today.

In my mind I am not me.

It is different what we both say.

Good thoughts are uttered badly

And skepticism is always high.

Simultaneous smiles are seen rarely

For one speaks truth and the other lies.

Lost is the bond now

Which is required to strike a balance.

Now it is all about how

I balance this imbalance.

 

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.

May I have your attention please!

Dear Bloggers/Patrons/Fellow creative minds,

Thank you for reading this post and clicking on The Poet and the Pen.

I have been writing Poems and Short Stories for over 4 years now and have always wanted to write a book. In regards to the same, it gives me immense pleasure to announce that very soon my first book, Silent Words, will be published.

I hope you all will show your love and support to this new venture of mine.

What is this book?

This book is a collection on Poems on various topics and emotions and stories. Hope you will find it interesting to read.

Who is the Publisher?

Delhi Poetry Slam (one of India’s biggest Poetry society).

It will be available on Amazon (both Hardcopy and e-Book)

The Preview:

SilentWords_3dmockup

I would really really appreciate if you guys would buy it once it releases. I will share the Amazon link and other details once the book gets published.

Please do read it, review it and help this Poet start on this new journey of his.

Do let me know about your thoughts and suggestions in the comment section below.

Lots of Love

-Nishant

The Play

 

One day they shall all be forgotten.

Who, What, When, Where will all become trivial.

Same stories will repeat themselves

for the new actors to reveal

and think of themselves as pivotal.

Old actors will watch from a distance

and critique as the new ones make mistakes,

But so did they…

Past comes back in a way.

Yet the audience will applaud

and throw roses for the same play

because that is their part

and to act is actor’s.

In the end it is all just a play.

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