Pushkar Bisht

(26.06.1985 / Pithoragarh (Uttaranchal))

Biography of Pushkar Bisht

Pushkar Bisht poet

Pushkar Bisht was born on the 26th of June,1985, in the town of Pithoragarh, the Queen of the Mountains. He now lives in New Delhi (India) , with his parents. Pushkar studies Philosophy, English Literature & Science in college.

Pushkar believes in forming deep and meaningful friendships across all age groups, and cherishes children and the elderly. He enjoys reading biographies of great men and women, because they inspire him and demonstrate how to face challenges of life with courage and determination. He regularly reads poetry and his writings allow him to share his inner thoughts and feelings with others.

Nature is one of Pushkar's most influential teachers. Through his observations of the natural world, Pushkar has learned to treasure every moment and to find happiness in even the smallest things in life. He is an extremely simple man who believes silence is the pathway leading to God. Pushkar embraces the small joys that come to him because they show him how to truly rejoice in the big joys that come unexpectedly.

Pushkar Bisht’s poetry is drawn from his observations of the world around him. He takes inspiration from the simple, and often routine, events of everyday life, and from the relationships he forms with family, friends and casual acquaintances. He is touched by the plight of people who are less fortunate than he, and this is clearly reflected in his work.

Bisht often breaks the rules of poetry. However this is done intentionally, in order to appeal to readers from all walks of life. As with most poets, Pushkar’s personal beliefs and values mould his thought patterns, and he creates a variety of visual images with his carefully chosen words and phrases.

Some readers may find some of Pushkar’s work unpolished and unconventional; however, even sophisticated poetry readers will warm to the sincerity and compassion his words convey. This is Bisht’s first collected work; however he hopes to release others soon.

pushkardimplebisht@yahoo.co.in

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We begin a war of new ideas,
In which the world is restricted,
And the people are absorbed in their own world,
We poets are restless to better the home,
Where all dwell in gloom.

Why the world so small
the people think?
Why not ordinary things

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