Something was missing that night,
Perhaps a Star.
Moon had clouds for company,
Despite being far.
Such an Irony…
Sky makes us believe
Something which is not true.
Look up at the night sky,
Every time you feel blue.
Category: Spiritual
Tree in the woods
I met a tree in the woods I was lost,
Green and lavish with a little bit frost,
Seeking some rest and shelter from wind,
I ate the fruits it bore, free of cost.
Days passed as I remained stuck,
Fearing the worst as I questioned my luck,
When suddenly I heard, “Life”.
Said the face on the tree trunk.
“Neither can I speak nor run,
Standing still under the Sun.
Facing wind and taking on rain,
I provide all with nothing to gain.
I live life like life lives in us all,
Let me show you though I cannot stroll.
Your childhood is spring, while youth is summer,
Elderly is the autumn and absence is the fall.
However, those who fall are replaced by new,
As that is what life is, simple and true.
Moral of tree is not to scare or haunt,
Live life as if you want because,
Today you are, tomorrow you won’t,
Leaves may fall but roots don’t.”
Sage old story
Temptation leads to an act of action,
Action comes with certain deeds.
Good and bad co-create junction,
Oh fool why don’t you limit your needs?
Enough itself is never enough.
A concept relative to every being.
Our unnecessary necessity synonyms tough,
Fallacy is all that I am seeing.
Age old stories are being treated ill,
All for the comfort and purpose of some.
A game where end is peril,
I found a sage of ageless term.
White clothed with a smiling gaze,
Has no money or possession of his own.
Yet his wealth is beyond our chase,
Answering all in his calm and soft tone.
Simplicity, truth, non-violence and kindness,
Are principles to break the cycle of Karma,
Harbors the flame which ends all blindness,
Ageless Sage’s definition of Dharma
Be it any country, religion, race or identity, core values all remain the same. In the end we are all but a name.
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!
Pranam
Before I convey my thoughts through the usual way of a Poem, I would first like to tell my readers about the above mentioned title of the Post. It comes to you all the way from the cultural land of India.
Feel free to read more about it online or ask me questions in the comments section.
Pranam: – It is the art of touching an elder’s feet or simply bowing down infront of someone as a sign of respect.
It is mostly practiced in India and is a way of offering salutation. The reason why it is done is written in the Poem that follows. The reason, meaning and purpose of offering Pranam is deep, ancient and beautiful.
Read to know…know to read
Pranam
Word means bowing in the front,
With the aim of touching elder’s feet.
Eyes looking towards mother earth,
Humble, respectful a gesture so sweet.
Ancient scripts speak of this art,
To be done wherever respect is due.
Only to be done from the core of our heart,
Not just for the sake of a few.
Bowing down infront of the higher,
Bends your ego, your false sense of pride.
Nerves of our body which ends in our finger,
During Pranam complete the energy circuit inside.
Restores blood pressure and sustains health,
The art of bending forward with both arms stretched.
Plus blessings and wishes from elders is as good as wealth,
Try it from your heart, your mind will be refreshed.
Not just a gesture which we observe,
But an act of kindness and devotion.
It helps to gain knowledge and conserve,
A simple art with so many emotion.
As this year comes to an end, I offer Pranam to all those respected souls who have taught me, guided me and showered their blessings on me.
This Poem is very close to my heart as I am dedicating it to my idol, my inspiration. My Grandfather, Hemraj Gang.
Wishing all my readers a very Happy New Year!
~Nishant Gang.
Creativity
Let me take you to the creative lane, A place which is made of thoughts. Hours of work along with happiness and pain, Glorifying the artists who dwells on those spots. A sketch wall built from scratch, By the artist who visions and draws. Everything you see is a perfect match, Of a time which is forever at pause. A dance alley where music surrounds, Allowing the artists to express. Every step is synced with the sounds, To escape from the chaos, the stress. A quiet garden, full of trees, With leaves inked in thoughts. Allows the writers to pass the keys, To worlds that exists amidst plots. A lake so calm and musically pure, With singers singing their hearts. The water there can help if not cure, A place where every journey starts. And finally a theatre near the lake, Where an actor hides in plain sight. So many hours of practice and re-takes, It takes before the enchantment falls right. They do what they do not for anyone, But for the one that matter the most. An artist sails in search of fun, That hides in finding the lost. ~ A fellow Artist
State of Mind
In a lane where vines had grown, Two were walking, together yet alone. None was good and none was bad, Let me narrate what I was shown. Engulfed in darkness and in rain, While walking in that very lane, A dark figure caught our sight, Scaring me while the guard remained sane. Later ahead as it got filled with thorns, Caused pain more than I could Bourne. Blood started to leave its mark, But the soldier beside took the bull by horns. Tired of walking I felt a rage, Trapping my mind, my heart in a cage. Blinded by anger I lost my wisdom, While the beggar endured his share like a sage. On reaching the very end of the lane, I asked a man, old with a cane. Why were things so different for them? It's the State of Mind, he said. No loss no gain.
From the Epic !
From a time which is now lost in pages, Comes a tale passing through the ages, Written and told from time to time, about A war that erased the sinners and their crime. Fought between the right and the wrong, With gods and men fighting along, The war lived till the 18th day, After the evil tricked the nobles in a play. Fierce and skilled men stood on both sides, Some fought with valour while some traded their pride, The war claimed many and spared only a few, In the end, settling all that was due. The war that ended when the eldest died, while The charioteer portrayed himself as a guide, taught When the learned fails to teach the fool, And when Ego, Lust, Greed and Anger are the crown’s jewel… Comes a great war where the evil perishes and the virtuous rule.
“Whenever there is decay of righteousness, O Bharata,
And there is exaltation of unrighteousness, then I Myself come forth;
For the protection of the good, for the destruction of evil-doers,
For the sake of firmly establishing righteousness, I am born from age to age.”
-Lord Krishna, Bhagwat Gita
Note :-
- “The eldest” mentioned in P4, L1 refers to “Duryodhana”, the evil prince from the epic, The Mahabharata.
- “The charioteer” mentioned in P4, L2 refers to “Krishna”, the eighth avatar of Lord Vishnu.
