धुंदली हस्सी

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.

Tears

They exfoliate the chaos

and bind strength,

Tears are misunderstood.

A benevolent affair that

makes it blurry

and ends with a feeling, good.

Contrary to notion,

they signify courage and acceptance.

Nothing scares us more than feelings

that lay hidden deep somewhere.

Blood runs down the skin

when the flesh is peeled

but tears run down when

the hurt wishes to be healed.

Perpetuity makes it difficult

to change and be better.

Tears break that chain,

Tears don’t make you any lesser.

Poetry Series, Episode: 1

Title: Enlightening Night

Like the silence that hums at night,

I have adopted the shadow

and have been standing,

waiting for the dawn to break.

Hope it will be exhilarating.

While gazing over the horizon,

I realised this too is a horizon to someone

who might be seeking

his or her morning Sun.

In silence I found my peace and realised that

even a night can be an enlightening one.

A little while back

With steps, I realise that my pace has changed.

Stomping is harder now for my shoulder feels heavy

and eyes which used to see straight, looks down.

Even the shadow seems weary.

Yet, I never felt this burden until now

and only saw it when I did.

A little while back it was easy somehow

but now I must admit, I am growing up.

So should I be happy or should I be upset?

Answer is probably neither

for you see, even though my soles are wearing off,

My Soul is definitely a bit wiser.

Music of Words

I closed my eyes and allowed it to pass,

pass those long held emotions

which were making my heart heavy

and a lesser version of myself.

What I saw was a Piano

whose notes did my bidding

and sounded my voice.

It felt like winning.

I never stopped and kept on arranging

a work which I didn’t plan but just did.

I saw anger leave my body and felt the absence of aching.

Sound of music which made me lose

the reality which was around

Is something I would choose

every time I wish to be found.

But when I opened my eyes I saw this poem

and the lights on my keyboard where all bright.

Here I was thinking that I was creating music

while I was simply jotting down some words.

I was correct to think that

because Poetry is the music of words.

My “Silent Words”

Dear Blogosphere,

Today I want to tell the whole world that I am now an Author.

Yes, that’s right.

I have been writing for over 5 years now and always wanted to see my work in the form of a Book. Last year in June’19, I started working towards making this dream come true and dedicated a good 6 months to it.

Today, I don’t have much to say as I am elated and humbled by all the love, support and good wishes that have been bestowed on me by my friends, family and last but not the least, my readers.

Therefore, without any further adieu let me introduce you to my first book, Silent Words.

“Hear and connect with the real you, every whisper will be true.”

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Smiling for real

 

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Holding my dream

Here are the details:

Title: Silent Words

Author: Nishant Gang

Publisher: Delhi Poetry Slam

Book available on

i. Amazon: www.amazon.in/dp/8194478545

ii. Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/the_solo_gang/

I hope that you will read this dream of mine and leave your honest reviews and comments on various platforms.

Excited to see what comes next.

– Lots of Love, Nishant

 

Word of the day

An old man sitting on the walkway,

Asked each passerby for a word.

Barely did anyone stop by,

For it seemed highly absurd.

I wrote on a piece of paper

And kept it in the old wrinkled hand.

Only to find out later

He could not comprehend.

In that moment, instead of being shy,

The old man smiled and asked for its meaning.

I explained but then I asked “Why?”

Said, “I am addicted to learning.”

 

~Each of us have something to teach but more importantly we all have so much to learn and not from only books or teachers but from each other as well.

250: Thank You

250th post. Each Post (on The Poet and the Pen) is done with the sole purpose of spreading a message. Message of Care, Fun, Love, Laughter, Happiness and Emotions.

I grow each and every day through this blog and many of you out there who just like me are on a quest to make the world a better place, I want to say Thank You.

We blog not for likes, comments, shares or anything. We blog so that someone who reads this irrespective of his country, location, colour, language and situation gets to know that we are here, we are with you and if we can do it so can you.

Lots of Love.

 

 

For every tear that you dropped in silence,

For every goodbye that scathed your heart,

For every smile that you projected despite inner violence,

For every day you played your part,

For every friend you lost and let go,

For every enemy you won by letting go,

For every step you took for a better tomorrow,

For every brave moment you faced your inner sorrow,

For every harsh truth you accepted,

For proving that you cannot be defeated,

For not treating the world as you were treated,

For spreading the good message that your misery created,

Thank You.

Sarcasm

Hey, do read/listen to it. I guarantee a smile/laughter.

 

Everything is in the state of Mayhem, 

Perhaps also the factory from where we get brain.

For if this is your idea of sane,

My dear, you are definitely on cocaine.

 

And I saw a few good men yesterday,

No not people, I meant the movie.

Oh, I am a man by the way,

But cannot include myself, it sounds cocky.

 

So lately, I have been eating healthy, 

And posting about it on social media.

Most of my posts are for the wealthy,

Because their recipes feels like reading encyclopedia.

 

I did a good thing today,

And didn’t do anything for the rest 364 days.

But… I clicked 365 pictures from every possible way,

Therefore, I did a good thing everyday.

 

My favourite TV show is the one I was told to watch,

Because it’s trending right now.

Who cares about the story?

Anyone who won’t watch it, is lame somehow.

 

I can go on and on about the joke we are,

But it won’t be fair as the apple doesn’t fall far.

Let me end this pretension of being sane,

Let’s face it, We all love being bizarre.

Content Creators

A wordsmith who novels

And enables dwellers known as readers

To flee into the realm of realisation,

Word by word with no followers and leaders

But just a conscience seeking conclusions

By simply spectating other characters,

Created to craft nothing but a message

For all those who are believers.

Sheltering them from the world outside,

Where most words are deceivers,

And sparing them the time to be anything they wish to be,

After all you are just spectators,

Is a Poet, Writer, Painter and Storyteller.