Simple Physics

It is said to have started with a big bang,

And so did the wheels of time.

Just like cosmic bodies we grow old,

And forget many who were once prime.

Life takes us to many places,

Ups and downs being the typical way.

While transversing the idiosyncratic story,

We let go of many without a say.

Old friend you are now lost,

Existing only in the initial pages.

Neither of us did anything wrong,

But we drifted with different stages.

Each one remembers the other,

Smiling with tears at memories of past.

Hope you are doing well,

Friend is one you just cannot recast.

Right I write

Daunting it is to see what goes around,

We don’t lose just time with time.

We have been told to fly whilst bound,

And living simply is like fighting crime.

The structured world has a way of getting,

Who or what does not matter much.

Since the beginning you are letting,

The world change your course without a touch.

Some say for good, some bad,

Who to judge while the judge gets judged.

At least try to be happily mad.

There are always ways to be glad.

Reap and Sow

This is tough. Every human faces friction when he/she change the gears in life (slow or fast doesn’t matter). After all we are the Human Race.

So as I try to figure out my plan for ahead I am reminded of nature’s most simple principle. You reap what you sow. Now this is important, it is important to sow in the good seeds before the rain arrives, it is important to water them with positivity whenever required otherwise all the wait, the work, and the worry will bear withered crops.

Whenever there is a change in pace, Reap and Sow principle is a must.

Reap and Sow

Every harvest brings a chance of change,
An opportunity to plough and plant.
With life it is an honest exchange,
Sow what you really want.
Each term comes in phases,
Cold, warm, wet and/or wind.
Yet what really amazes is,
Some remain intact while others, skinned.
Difference lies in care and nuture.
It all depends on how you row.
Either take the chance to do better,
Regardless, you reap what you sow.
Nishant Gang, The Poet and the Pen

Art of silence

I seek the art of silence,
For I am a complete fool.
Stating opinions is marked as defiance,
While holding grounds is cruel.
Nod along for the road ahead,
For individuality will be harsh.
Regardless of the talent you had,
Silent followers will be asked to march.
I seek the art of silence,
For I refuse to be a tool.
Belief in self and dreams will be in compliance,
Silence is for the wise fool.
The Poet and the Pen

Unvalued’s value

So much for some while so little for many,

Fairly assesses the unfairness of life.

Value of what is ours is hardly any,

While over valuing the absent is rife.

Till the day we acquire the unavailable,

It is marked as precious, as a goal.

Price tags which are marked on each saleable,

Can best depict how we treat the world as a whole.

As soon as it becomes one of our possessions,

Its value just like a tag is reduced to dust.

In each one’s mind it will be a confession,

Unvalued’s value is like an iron on rust.

Value everything for it is a must.

Gazing

I have travelled quite a bit, seen a few things here and there. Travelling is good.

It is necessary to take time out of our lives, turn off those bright screens which we see all day and just catch a train.

A nice train compartment, a hot cup of coffee, a good book or some blank pages, and one Pen. The Poet always needs the Pen, pun intended. That is an amazing way to start a journey, if one likes to travel solo.

Traveling with friends is amazing, helps you to connect, bond, explore and make memories for a lifetime but there is something about travelling solo.

I remember my old days when I used to kick start my motorbike and take on the roads. No pre-fixed destination, just going where the path leads me to. I used to ride for hours, accelerate on highways and open roads, stop at small roadside shops or gas stations for a cup of tea and then carry on with my adventure. Lately, I have been missing those days. I would love to go on such trips again but thats okay. Someday I will.

A traveller travels for the novelty of it,
A fresh life with each morning star.
As fancy as it sounds, it is hard to commit,
It is not just about the places afar.
Each mile stores millennium worth moments,
Waiting to be explored by the travelling gambler.
Richness of difference is life’s endowment,
Appreciable only by a fellow traveller.
With a crowd or alone, to field or hills,
Remains at liberty with the desperate dweller.
Capturing the world in the form of stills,
Only gets sweeter for the gazing teller.
A Traveller

Read to know…know to read

I came up with this tag line during the very initial days of my blog. I remember, we were sitting in my hostel room and talking about palindrome when I saw on this piece of paper with Read to know written on it.

Thus began, Read to know…know to read catch phrase. Not exactly a palindrome by definition but yeah that’s pretty much the story. Today I am here ready to post by 100th Poem and it really has been a journey so far.

To many more to come and to this 100th, Read to know…know to read.

Satisfyingly unsettled

Birds were flocking back to their nests,
While the set was glowing orange and red.
Amidst the settling sand they give their best,
And remain Satisfyingly unsettled for ahead.
What more can you truly achieve apart from a simple try?
Question to be asked in the presence of stars…
Was my effort a truth or a lie?
Regardless of answer strategy says, “Try”.
Remain satisfied with what you did,
But dare not settle ever in life.
Greed is not doing my bid,
It is the positive satisfying drive.
Satisfyingly unsettled is to perform, rest, and strive.
The Poet and the Pen, 100th Poem

Breakfast

Thinking is important, no doubt there. However, there is another act which we need to perform with if not equal than with more tenacity. I am talking about a start. Speaking of… without further adieu, read to know…know to read.

Breakfast
How important is it, a start?
Perhaps the most important of all.
How do we know our ventures will last?
We don’t. With life it is our eternal brawl.
That goal which we always wanted to achieve,
Is waiting on the opposite shore.
Enriched with everything that we believe,
There exists atleast a path or more.
Break this cycle which only ponders,
Nothing happens unless we start.
It better to get lost or wander,
Breakfast if you are smart.
Nishant Gang, The Poet and the Pen

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.

Lie-ability

It says, human did not know how to lie. It came to us as well started settling in this world.

What/who taught us this unique ability?

What/whosoever it was, changed the shape of the world we know today.

Lie-ability
Act of concealing what we label as truth,
Comes natural to most if gazed up close.
Tranquil tunes wrapped with fallacy,
Are being administered at a regular doze.
Tricks are quaint and treats seem heartening,
Masking the gloomy road ahead.
An act that never ends but keeps circling,
Even after the lie has spread.
Some are necessary, noble, and kind,
While most seem innocent with a deceitful glimmer.
Precarious are the stones on which,
Lie makes promises to a desperate winner.
Necessary evil whose chains have broken,
Commands even the noblest of us.
Since the beginning only truth has spoken,
Impeccable amidst the liar’s fuss.

Follow The Poet and the Pen for more such works. Poem #96