खेल

 

एक खेल खेला करते थे हम.
खेल के कुछ नियम हुआ करते थे.
जीत और हार से टटोलते थे मन
छोटी छोटी बातो पे झगड़ा करते थे.
काफी नोक झोक हुआ करती थी
लड़ाईया भी हुआ करती थी
पर पता है उन सबके बाद भी
खेल की गाडी नहीं रूकती थी.
सब कुछ भूल के अगले दिन फिरसे एक खेल खेला करते थे हम.

अब खेलने के दिन गए शायद
नियम के बंधन भी मिट गए शायद
रोज़ रोज़ मिलना भी काम हो गया शायद
पार छोटी छोटी बातो में झगडे आज भी होते है
और फिरसे वह दो दोस्त साथ में कभी नहीं खेलते है.
शायद समझदार बनते बनते समझ कम हो जाती है,
दोस्ती बिना किसी बात के कहानी बन के रह जाती है,
जो बात बचपन में पता थी आज नहीं समझ आती है,
सिर्फ खेल बदला है, पर हम तो आज भी वही साथी 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.

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

Rusted

 

An old bike sits in my garage.

It is covered in dust

and barely does it look nice.

One day it shall rust.

It was my favourite once,

I used to spend hours on it

riding through my favourite paths,

when suddenly it started to break down,

delayed my every plan.

I could no longer go around

and felt like a different man.

Everything has a life span.

 

When something/someone denies you from being the best version of yourself, understand that their time in your life is now over.

-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

Let me

 

Let me be your lyricist

and write that befitting song.

Let every pulse under my wrist

add a beat for as long

as I continue to exist.

Let a music be born

and reverberate in all directions.

To the world you may not be great

because of your imperfections.

But to me you are,

The person from the pond’s reflection.

 

 

It is you and always just you. When you write your own song, it lasts forever.

-Nishant, The Poet and the Pen.

 

Dropped conspiracy

 

I dropped it that day

And it broke.

Hundreds of pieces got scattered,

For me to collect again.

But I remember that my hands didn’t fail

And my fingers opened voluntarily.

Perhaps it was necessary,

A beautiful conspiracy

Which later proved to be a therapy.

 

Sometimes the mistakes that we do are actually done deliberately by our subconscious mind. Later we realise that it was a necessary therapy for us.

Nishant, The Poet and the Pen