Final showdown

It was the last time we ever gazed

into each other’s eyes.

Gone are those days

and life is what it is today.

But before we turned around

and walked our separate paths

there was this moment…

It was just this moment

when we both realised,

A good rival is also very important.

A good enemy helps you to improve.

-Nishant, The Poet and the Pen

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.

Old strings new tunes

In the deepest corner of my room

6 old strings stood from distant past.

It wasn’t an accident that I discovered

Something which was already there since the start.

Many fond memories ran like a reel

Inside the projector of my heart

And then suddenly I started to feel

As if a sin had been committed on my part.

Old tunes stopped and strings never reverberated

Because I gave up on them,

Fallacy got me distracted.

I gave up on them.

Music was lost after a while

And I had to fill that void with noise.

We never love something which is not our style

6 old strings were my choice.

But now I am back and they are still there

Waiting to be played.

With old strings and new tunes I today declare

Resumption of my parade.

Even in the loudest nights now,

My tunes shall not fade.

We always return to the place we belong. We always find the things which are meant for us. Even though we walk away from them, life gets us back to them and it is at that moment when we realise that it was all meant to be.

Nishant, The Poet and the Pen

Let’s dance, shall we?

An emotional story which is practical and brave.

Dear, an email just arrived.
I shall have to take your leave,
For I need to help the deprived.
It’s time I Share what I received.

My absence is indefinite as of now,
I know it will be hard for you to bear.
But dear, I am sorry. I made a vow,
And vows are a beautiful love affair.

They seek sacrifice and your man is brave,
Times are tough but I shall face.
Let me play my part and save,
Just like you saved me once with grace.

And even if I don’t return, we shall meet.
There is no way for us to stay apart.
You took care of me amidst that desert’s heat,
And departed while on duty along with my heart.

Let me play my part just like you did.
You took 3 bullets but still didn’t bend your knee.
So now I will close my eyes and extend my arms,
For before I go on war, let’s dance, shall we?

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.

Mask

 

A suit of armour that shines so bright,

A helmet to cover the eyes,

Hiding injuries of the previous fight,

We face a war everyday in our lives.

Some enraged, some desolate,

Some caged or maybe in another state,

Everyone had to deal with something great.

Mask is what comes with fate.

No not weakness but symbol of strength,

Knights have heart to go on to any length,

Mask doesn’t hide but helps to stand tall,

We can rise only after we had a fall.

Wear your wounds as medals of valor,

Put on a smile to tip the world off.

In hardship lies true glamour,

Tomorrow is another day, another stand-off.

His-Story

This is his story. A story which created history. Very few know him, even fewer understand him and perhaps no one ever got to see the real him.

Who is he?

He is anyone, everyone, and no one.

This is our story. A story of which we all are a part of.

His-Story
A con man with an uncommon genuine smile,
Predicating an image that is still unclear,
Is always facing some or the other trial,
For his mind has both courage and fear.

Humble at the very core but not so much on the skin,
Just like the world we so much adore, we too are on a spin.
And to win?, Con man must be a kin,
And so we all have this evil twin.


Passionate is another charm of time,
Without which nothing is fine.
Each step in life is like a line.
His story is for him to design.


To be truthful, not being truthful is alright,
For with situations we need to change our sight.
Lose if you must for trying is right,
His story speaks about everyone's fight.

A phone call

It happened while I was in the park,

Resting in the soothing shade of a tree,

And as I rested my head on its bark,

A call came from a number I couldn’t see.

Voice was familiar from a time in past,

Hello itself sent shivers down my spine.

“You came here, my friend, at last,

But where is our customery wine?”

I demanded him to introduce self,

To which he said a member of my troop.

“Captain! I no longer need any help,

But I do miss our fierce little group.”

“It’s time for me to report to station,

Day eleventh, March of Fourty-four,

You laid your life for us, for our nation,

Enjoy the soothing shade a little more”

eternal silence…

A video journey of The Poet and the Pen

Almost all my poems had a featured image (which do not belong to me in any way whatsoever)

Each image was used with the purpose of letting my readers understand and connect with my words at a much better level.

This video shows my journey and the rich content this blog has to offer…

Read the poems once you are done with the video (especially those whose images you like)

See to know…know to read

Happy Monday!

Immortals

Be it night or be it day,

Be it November or be it may,

I stand here and keep a watch,

My flag is my identity, proudly I say.

Absence of the loved ones haunt all the time,

Sickness and pain are equal to a crime,

Kids grow up in the meantime, but…

My flag is my identity, proudly I sign.

Festivals are spent far away in silence,

So you can live in peace I’ll endure the violence,

My job is not a job but a service to all,

You are safe because a soldier is on call.

Attention! My duties await,

For my country and not for any state,

My name maybe unknown but so is my fate,

Flag will be my identity till my last date.