uff_ishan

Show- khaali kursi by The Poet
Venue- Pots and Stones, Coffee and eatery, kathgodam
Time- 7pm onwards
Booking link in bio

Show- khaali kursi by The Poet
Venue-
Time- 7pm onwards
Booking link in bio

I hate that I can write..
Because..
There are days when I feel like,
Words don’t exist.
and if they do,
I don’t have a tongue.
I try to spell words,
I try to tell people that they mean to me,
That I would lose everything all over again If they leave..
But all I do is make weird sounds
because no one reads the eye
and I don’t have a tongue.
So I write
I write when it’s too late
and they are gone.
There are days when i feel like my head is tasering me,
I cannot move
I can only lie on my bed
hoping the pain ends.
and when the hurt ends
I see I am late.
late for work,
late to tell her that i love her,
late for the dinner,
late for everything..
I am man made of flesh,bones and wrong timings.
so I write.
I write when,
They have fired me,
She has left,
And the dinner is over,
Without me.
There are days when i feel like..
I am homesick,
That is when I realise..
I am already home.
I don’t want to be at home,
and there is no place I can go to.
So I try to love my room,
I paint the walls
The thing is I don’t know how to paint
and my wall looks like a mess now.
There is only one thing..
I can do properly,
Without the tongue..
So I SCREAM
and my neighbours tell me i am good at singing GRUNGE..
they see a Kurt Cobain in me..
I wanted be John Lennon..
KURT COBAIN didn’t have a tongue.
I am so fu**ed.

-Ishan Pathik

Picture credits- FarOut Magazine Uk

सुने मन के सूनेपन में
एक अकेली आहट ने
कुछ शोर मचाया
सुबह हुई

I realise that i have become a drug.
I give you a different perspective.
A different chill.
An escape.
The high vibe.
You get addicted to me and you cannot let go.
Until reality hits you!
When you realise this is not how life is meant to be.
You run away!
You cannot spend a life sipping black coffees and poetries.
You cannot always keep pulling leeches from your legs because its always mountains and rain with me.
You cannot keep believing that your hands are made of smoke.
And your back was meant to be painted.
That your eyes are the other way front and if you succeed to roll them right you can see the truth,
That is why spirituals close their eyes for truth.
I am a lonely drug that loves to be alone.
Good s*x.
Good poems.
Good memories.
Good explorations.
Good realisations.
Good escape.
Good bye.
That is how it goes.
A good trip.
The structure to the high that i am.
It’s just i linger in your mind forever
Because you can never make out
If i was good for you or the worst mistake you ever made.
Because reality is not right anymore
And the escape is so different.
It is what it is
But i just hope someday someone tired from the reality gets addicted to me.
And we let the leeches drink from us until they burst out of satisfaction.
Or i hope i find a drug for myself.

-Ishan Pathik

I hate that I can write
because
there are days when i feel like
words don't exist
and if they do
I don't have a tongue
I try to spell words
I try to tell people that they mean to me
that I would lose everything all over again if they leave
but all I do is make weird sounds
because no one reads the eye
and I don't have a tongue.
so I write
I write when it's too late
and they are gone.
there are days when I feel like my head is tasering me
and I cannot move
only lie on my bed
hoping the pain ends.
and when the hurt ends
I see I am late.
late for work
late to tell her that I love her
late for the dinner
late for everything..
I am man made of flesh,bones and wrong timings.
so I write
I write when
they have fired me
she has left
and the dinner is over
without me
There are days when I feel like
I am homesick
That is when i realise
I am already home
I don't want to be at home
and there is no place I can go
I try to love my room
I paint the walls
I don't know how to paint
and my wall looks like a mess now.
there is only one things
I can do properly
without the tongue
so I SCREAM
and my neighbours tell me i am good at singing GRUNGE..
they see a Kurt Cobain in me..
I wanna be John Lennon..
KURT COBAIN didn't have a tongue.
I am so fu**ed.

-Ishan Pathik

एक बार किसी पहाड़ी कमरे में उसके बदन को बेतहाशा चूमने के बाद उसने मुझसे कहा- “ईशान! अब क्या करें?”
सो मैंने एक छोटा सा दीया जलाया और उसके लैप्टॉप पर उसके और मेरे नाम से बने पास्वर्ड को लिखते हुए नेटफ़्लिक्स पर इम्तियाज़ की तमाशा लगा दी. पूरी फ़िल्म देखते हुए मैं कई बार रोया और वो आराम से मेरे पीठ को सहलाती रही.. फ़िल्म खतम हुई, उसने एक लम्बी साँस ली और मुझे देखा.. मैंने आंसू पोंछते हुए उससे कहा “ पता है ये जो मेरी ज़िंदगी है ना इसमें वेद मैं हूँ, अपना डॉन भी मैं हूँ, वो पागल बॉस, वो परेशान बाप , कहानी सुनाने वाला पागल और तारा.. मैं ही अपनी तारा हूँ ..” मैं फूटफूट कर रोने लगा.. और अब वो भी.. काफ़ी देर रोने के बाद दीया बुझ गया.. उसने मुझे कुछ देर फिर चूमा और सॉरी बोलकर सो गयी.. मैं नहीं सोया.. मैं चाहता था कि वो सोने से पहले मुझसे बस इतना बोल जाए कि वो कोशिश करेगी तारा होने की.. पर वो मुझसे कभी झूठ नहीं बोल पाती थी..
आज मैं वेद नहीं हूँ ..
कोई नहीं हूँ …
वेद कोई है ही नहीं..
सब इम्तियाज़ हैं?
इम्तियाज़ कोन है?
मैं नहीं जानता
मैं चाहता भी नहीं हूँ
जानना …

-ईशान पथिक

Image- ‘Tamasha’ movie

Everything that we say is a poem,
Poetry is a responsibility,
For the one who speaks
And for the one who listens,
We have to take care!
Every war, Every peace accord, meetings and separations all start with words.
Isn’t it!?

I wake up and I keep missing the night just to realise I missed the morning.

Bass jeete raho
Ham peete raho
Par hansa bhi
Bin hansne ke
Kya jeena hai
Bas jeete raho

कब के बिछड़ें हुए हम आज यहाँ