वह हस्सी अब धुंदली दिखती है,
जिस पर मुझे नाज़ हुआ करता था…
आँखे भी अब कहा सच देखती है,
सच न जाने क्या हुआ करता था…
जब रौशनी गिरती है चेहरे पे,
उसके पीछे का अँधेरा ज्यादा दिखता है…
सुबह का सूरज नया दिन नहीं लाता,
रात की नींद दिन में मिलती है…
फिर भी यह दुनिया चलती है.
और चलना भी चाइये, क्युकि सही है.
बस एक बार यह धुंधलापन मिट जाये,
वह हस्सी यही कही छिपी है.
It’s like wanting some air to breathe
and stay still for a minute or two.
Allow me to pass please
for I am tired to continue.
Where can I find that open ground
with no one lurking around
and scream at the top of my voice
without being question bound?
All this pretension is making me sick,
Every person has to offer some or the other trick
but all I want is to be left alone for a while
because I know what I need to fix.
My voice is only heard when it is answering
to the questions I incur.
It is like I have stopped talking to myself now
because my space has been invaded somehow.
Let me hear my voice again
with utmost silence everywhere
and allow me to talk it out
because lately, seclusion is all that I can think about.
Leave me alone for a while, fellow dwellers.
Let me grieve for a while, fellow strangers.
Let me speak to the one in the mirror
and help that man in getting better.
Let me be.
An unsettling unsure persona
Of self is conflicting today.
In my mind I am not me.
It is different what we both say.
Good thoughts are uttered badly
And skepticism is always high.
Simultaneous smiles are seen rarely
For one speaks truth and the other lies.
Lost is the bond now
Which is required to strike a balance.
Now it is all about how
I balance this imbalance.
आइना समेट रहा था, खुद को समेट लिया
एक टुटा आइना सच कह गया.
चेहरा नहीं पर दिल दिखा गया.
बिखरा जरूर पर
देखने वाला भी तो बिखरा ही था.
आइना जीता और बिखरा हार गया.
खुद को समेटना जो भूल गया था
वह अपने बिखरे आप को समेटने लगा.
किसे पता था…
पहली बार उसे कुछ अच्छा लगा.
दिल के दरार आईने पे आगये,
पर जैसे जैसे आइना समेटा
एक चेहरा सामने आया.
वह चेहरा उसने कही तो था देखा.
बहुत पहले. समेटा हुआ चेहरा.
अब उसे फिरसे वही चेहरा देखना है.
आईने के सामने खड़े होक खुद से कहना है,
की वह वापिस पहले जैसा हो गया है.
और किसी टूटे हुए आईने से कहना है,
वह गलत है, देखने वाला फिरसे पूरा हो गया है.
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.
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.
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.
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
Hits can be derailing
And it takes time to get back.
As we end up trailing
Our paths seem to go black.
It feels like we are failing,
And that we have been giving slack.
Everything becomes overwhelming
That we start wishing if we could go back.
But…
Life isn’t streamlined
But a curve of ups and downs.
That timeline which we predefined
Never covers all the towns.
We never trail,
Neither do we actually fail
But gain lessons which weren’t expected.
So be proud of yourself and stop feeling dejected.
Finally that morning had come.
My eyes knew what they were about to see.
For before going to bed yesterday,
I knew it was meant to be.
It took us years to get together,
Years that felt like centuries.
But this feeling couldn’t get any better.
So many bitter-sweet memories.
Your eyes were just like mine,
Bright and happy and no longer wet.
And therefore this morning is oh so fine,
For there are no Teardrops on my pillow set.
I want to try something here. I urge all my readers to kindly post their understanding from the said lines in the comment section.
Play Fair. 🙂
Just curious and hey, no one can be wrong for that’s the beauty of Poetry.
