Those Stains

Those Stains

Trapped in the pages of time, a mildly withering lover, whose screams can never be blown out from the heart, he is always looking in a very distraught manner towards his lover while decorating the bundle of thoughts.

In dark as if out of the agony of depression, he flinches even when he says his agony.... People keep distance from me, they say What to write on someone's ruthlessness and stain? What will you gain from this? 

Write on beauty, about someone who owns the lake of beauty..... But had they ever thought of those who are holding those stains, who took the pain of that love... How the questioners here ended their beauty with such ease? ...

Will writing on them dry up their pens?

Every person sprinkles only his coloured pen on the atomizer pages but I worship the black ink and write Those same stains.

Read Only I know.... Click here.

Farewell to the Decade.

Slowly, the art of writing is fading inside me....

It is leaving me automatically, so as it came. The process of things leaving me is very old...as if it was written in my destiny. My first girlfriend left me, so as my first friend, all of my half dozens of schools and my first 'second city'. Sometimes I feel that the time of departure of something will just pass, but the destination of this is something not known to me at all... The more we grow, the more trouble seeks our path. However, I am among those who do not believe in struggle. I plead in difficulty and point that I became the weakest person in the world, even after knowing that the world just pities on the weak.

A voice of mine speaking is no longer capable to murmur. The nectar full words of love do only fill the paper with ink.

People hovering here and there are no longer that appealing. Their beautiful face shows the truth behind them...In other words, now I feel disgusted around them. People often tell me that I have a lot of senseless pride, but I am just silent.

Someone who is experiencing the departure of everything also has to experience the agony of this world and no dear one tries to balance him as well.

A dream flows in his eyes...a glow appears on the face when someone kisses his palms and says with so much love that everything will be fine...then no one knows, why his heart gets no reason to not believe in her.

#Poetry

#ShikharPathak

#Bahraich

#poets

Poetry and its accomplishments

Poetry and its accomplishments

The echo of applause is not the destiny of poetry.

Neither the poet's autograph on palm,

nor thousands of followers on Instagram.

All this can be the achievement of poet, not at all of poetry.

The real appreciation of poetry can be achieved in the form of .....

A long silence ...

A strand of dew in someone's eyes...

A wordless Ahh!

Bite of memory on any old wound....

Or in that hug by an stranger and her departure without any mention of name ,,,,,,

Poetry is the treatment of deep injuries of the Earth...

Poetry is also the favor of language, on her lovers.

~Shikhar Pathak

#Poetry

#ShikharPathak

#Bahraich

#poets

Heartwarming answer of my previous writing 'Only I Know' Shikhar Pathak

Ever wondered why some of our queries,doubts,problems,confusions remain unanswersd ? .. It's just because we don't share it to that person who can not actually answer them but also makes all your anxiety and distress erased from your brain..... Luckily mine reached to that person and suddenly and unexpectedly I got a call full of the solutions....

So here I am sharing the picture of my previous writeup along with the picture of that beautiful answer to ky confusion that..... Only I knew....

#ShikharPathak

#ShikharPathak'swords

This is the reply ♥️♥️♥️

Click here to read 'Only I Know'

You....

You are

Like monsoon in your city
Stormy
Musical

You are
Like Rhythm of drops
Thunder of clouds

Your departure is
Like the departure from the life of a season forever.

Now when you are leaving again
The rain has become dumb
The city has faded.

@shikharpath

Maturity

Maturity ,For  which man  wanders here and there, After falling in love, he gets it in as much quantity as he never needed ... !! People falling in love at a tender age, they feel the experiences of life, which either strengthen their shoulders to the extent  that nothing  can shake them ... Or weakens them to the extent so that no doctor in the world can heal them...... !! And the result of this is sometimes closer to their death .. !!


Stay tuned .. Follow me on IG,Wattpad, pratilipi.......

Only I Know

Only I know.......

All these nights will pass like this..

No one will have any idea of what I think on my roof looking at the sky. The words of my diary have their reach limited to me. The report of my brain scanned by a doctor is just up to me. And only I know how many times I stopped buses just for searching that face in that particular place.

Only I know the real address of the hero of stories I have woven on the world's grieving tunes.

When I close my eyes in a lighted room, and how I see myself falling between the black dots and yellow backgrounds? Only I know...

Only I know, how I threw my cellphone and spectacles when my fingers refused to delete her texts and eyes refused to stop looking at her pics. I am not able to tell or explain a few things about myself to anyone... So sometimes I consider mirror as a second person and spend hours talking about such things to mirror. When I crack any self-made joke, I hear  the laughs, then only I know how I also want to laugh freely like them.

This thing is also known to me that I want to see the faces of boys from all over the world whose face is covered by their sweetheart's scarf. By looking at their face I want to judge my face. I need a familiar scarf to hide my ash-looking face.... And only I know this thing

When I suddenly wake up at night and try to fill the empty space on the left side of my bed in the arms, then only I know that whose soul can be involved in the measurement of my arms. Nobody knows the things limited to you, they know nothing. No one thought so deeply of me and no one could even think.. If someone tries to do so, then he disappears after few years, no months no no actually days.

After missing, they only get erased from memory. Gradually, their face starts to tarnish. And I know where the fainted faces are lost in the space.

Shikhar Pathak

Read Virtual correspondence