Flowers

It says that they spread an aromatic fragrance

when they bloom and are bright.

It also says that they wither under harshness

and die down when deprived of light.

Interact with life that comes flying around

and have their own colour to every sight.

Grow up, reach their prime, bloom and later perish,

yet stand everyday as it is right.

It here speaks of flowers and their life,

While I thought it meant us humans.

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

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

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

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

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