City and the Mountain

I still remember that morning!
On one side of that steep Road, the smoke rising from the snow capped mountain was forming its own distinct cloud right from the first Ray of dawn.
It is said that we write about the same things that we think about.... I don't know what I lost in trains , rain ,that city and now in mountain and when I would find that.
Tightness of inside, starts to take a grip on the mountains by stretching its arms. The snakeskin of the old man begins to fall in the Gorge itself. A new person comes from inside to grow old.
On that golden day a boat had landed a little inside the lake.Why? and how? No one knows. But he was relieved to think he would get along with someone to come back to shore.
People say that on one night the mountain had moved from its place to the city. The city told the mountain about its true colour and since then the memories of people are still very dark about that night. When a piece of nail gets broken it feels no pain.... But that night before the mountain broke,  it screamed very loudly.... And I missed you...
As if while remembering that black night, it was like remembering that mountain shining like gold! Like listening to the melodious tune in the present buried under the screams of future.... Such as feeling the pain similar to when nails were cut....

'The End'

Today ,my heart wants to talk to you again, about those things which will never end now....
I don't want any of us to say 'Aur batao' these words indicate the end of talk... I have to spend this life talking to you. And my heart no longer wants an end , but a beginning in which there is nothing like 'The End'.
I have seen an end, of myself ,yours, ours and of whatever we had.... And after seeing the terrible face of 'The End' so closely, I do not want to live again what I have already lived.... Back then, how much things got changed , that I realised how terrible a word made of combining  four letters is, smaller the world larger its form...

I want a beginning , a beginning in which we start things from where we came close to each other ,and what you felt after that terrible 'The End'?What I lost? and how I remain alive in the hope of your coming back?
 I want to live a phase of life telling each other all these things.

I want you to tell more, so that in the meantime I can keep looking at you to understand every change you acquired in this passed time. Is your laughter still the same? Does your face still turns reddish in the sun, like before.... Or now it has also molded itself with the situation? Do you still know to give that false smile ..... or everything  has changed now?

Well I also wish for few things has changed so that this beginning  does not come to 'The end'... I want our talks to be ever increasing , but let our words remain incompleted, so that in the Greed to complete the things, I do feel short of a single life craving for many more, thus fulfilling the criteria of never-ending, ever-increasing and a selfless love.

~Shikhar Pathak

#shikharpathak
#shikhatpathakword's

Story or Desire

Some stories are strange.
Absolutely complete despite not meeting their fate.
Stories which started from the middle of Whirlpool and got stuck somewhere. Stories with their end moving in the opposite direction, are in search of a common arrow.

People who think for others beyond themselves... Possess the destiny of often losing their own self.... the definite destiny.
People having high dreams, who ever wanted a lot from life. Life gives them everything but in a ruthless transaction it snatches that one small heartily desire secretly from small estate, ultimately equalising the deal.

Characters like such will get lost in the mist somewhere far away.... In just 3-4 years. When for the time are flying, vagabond, alluvial clouds stayed ? They will find a place to shower their empathy.

The day when accumulated capital of emotions, memories, the binded way will become unbearable...
When the heart will get tired by frequent acts of being rebel.
That day , on an unknown level it will rain to compromise with that sole desire left to be fulfilled.
That day ,the real personality must die in the game hosted by the nature.

Those murmuring clouds , somewhere far away must have permeated the earth with their drops getting bound but devotedly.

But that story???
What about that....???
Stories will remain imprisoned for centuries in that vortex...
Waiting for the clouds which will never return.
Clouds which got settled somewhere else...
Forever and ever....

Read 'Those Stains'

Coronavirus in India ..... Conventional yet Thoughtful measure against COVID 19.

I am not claiming this neither trying to create any hype or rumour..... But just had a talk with my friend Shrey and we concluded that .... Can't the person who got cured from COVID 19 and developed some immunity against it donate their Plasma to the affected person in order to support them with their survival ?
Surely if they have developed enough antibody and reappearance of virus is not the case ..... Any suggestions are highly welcomed....

We even searched to make our point stronger and found Shanghai used this and got great results , so might be the same case with India.

#Corona

#Covid19

#CoronaInIndia

#PreventionAgainstCorona

#TreatmentCorona

Following your soul

Following your soul

Hey!

You used to say that I'll change.

Yes... You were right... 

I feel like I'm turning away from you

...

Because back then I used to live with you as shadows do

And now I am not even capable to see your shadow.

Whose day used to start with you. Today he cannot give you time even when the day ends.

In my speed dial, you were always on the first number... Today when I thought to talk to you, your number was not even in the dial list 

Never thought that I'll be so engrossed in my life that there will be no time left to know your condition.

I used to feel that without seeing you, I'll not breath..

But the heart still beats....

Off course you stay in my mind all the time, even today.

But listen, Now I don't dial your number again and again like crazy...

It just reduced to glancing at your number at time....

I never spied your Insta posts neither when for the last time on whatsapp you went online.....

Your voice left me, so as you glancing my face...

But I will keep following your soul forever and ever....

P.S Your body might adapt for someone else but your soul will always crave for me.....

#Poetry

#ShikharPathak

#Bahraich

#poets

Read Farewell To The Decade

 
Definition of love

साल भर

मैंने साल भर जाग कर रातें देखी, लोगों की मुस्कुराहटें देखीं, और रोते लड़के देखे, मैंने अपने परिवार को देखा और उनकी बेबसी देखी, मैंने बहन को देखा और उसके सपने देखे। मैंने मंदिर में मूर्ति के पीछे और तुलसी के गमले में देखा।
मैंने दादी कि आंखो में देखा, मैंने गुरुजी से पूछा और शराबी से भी। मै साल भर दीवार बना रहा। मुझे वो नहीं मिली।

लोगों को प्यार नहीं मिलता,इज्जत नहीं मिलती, दहेज़ और फरेब नहीं मिलता।
मुझे सब मिला बस वो नहीं मिली। किसी मंदिर में, सड़क पर, दवाइयों से आसमान के तारों में या मेरे दोस्त की बातों में, मुझे  वो कभी नहीं मिली।

में अगले साल रात भर सोया, दिन भर पिया, दवाइयां,आंसू याद और धोखे। मै साल भर के लिए भगवान हो गया।
वो मेरे सिरहाने बैठे मेरा सिर सहला रही थी।
जन्नत जमीन हो गई थी।
मैंने उसका हाथ पकड़ना चाहा,वो चली गई,
दवाइयां, आंसू सब बारिश बन गए मै कीचड़ हो गया।
मैं साल भर कीचड़ रहा, वो साल भर बारिश बन बरसी।
मैं जीवन भर कीचड़ रहूंगा, पर अब सूखा पड़ता है, कई सालों से बारिश नहीं हुई।
मैं सुखी मिट्टी हूं, जो जल्दी उद जाती है और आजकल हवा बहुत तेज हो गई है।

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.