Monday, 8 December 2014
Friday, 28 November 2014
darr
mujhako
ishq hai tujhase, mera ye hshra hua hai
jisase ishq hai tujhako, uske anjaam se darr lagata hai.
jisase ishq hai tujhako, uske anjaam se darr lagata hai.
The Stranger
I came to Mandi House after three
months but it seemed three years. Generally i used to come here to visit some
galleries but later i stopped visiting galleries because the things they put
there stink. So now i come here to watch theatre. Sometimes i come here to sit
at the circle next to Shri Ram Centre and watch moving traffic while having
coffee. This day I came to watch a play titled 'look back in anger'. I reached
early. I was to spend about forty minutes somewhere so I bought a coffee and
some cigarettes and reached to circle. I sit at my place. I took a deep breath
and released. This always relaxes me. It was very soothing to be there, my
space with my time. I was trying to avoid first sip of coffee as it always
burns some part in my mouth. But to take second sip first has to be done so I
took first sip and “fuck”, again. But there was something else also. I felt
vacuum around me. It was a weird feeling. I stopped drinking coffee. I saw in
the direction of vacuum. It was 40 degrees right from front. There was nothing
until my eye sight hit a guy across the road who was standing next to circle,
beside Ficci’s building. He was in black. Black pants, black shirt, black
aviators and pointed black shoes. He was clean shaved, all this was making him
very handsome. While standing there he was checking something on the screen of
his cell phone. I noticed myself, I was putting on off white Non Denim, almost
pink T-Shirt, black blazer, black boots and black wayfarer. I again saw at him,
he put his cell phone in pants’ left pocket and saw to his right almost
directly to me and then to his left where a Tea Wala was making tea. He asked
him something then smiled. He started crossing the road towards my side. He
walk was very impressive, his every step is holds ground well, and interval
between steps is precise. His walk catched the attention of girls buying
something from Turant. He crossed the road and kept walking when he was exactly
at right almost fifteen feet away I caught a clear sight of his face. He was of
mid-twenties having a manly face. ‘Well, interesting guy’ I said to myself. I
have this skill to know people by their appearance and body language. I lit a
cigarette and started seeing at moving traffic again. ‘Coffee with cigarette
humm… do chai ek cigarette…’* I recalled something smiled. As I finished
cigarette I listened a voice, ‘excuse me, is it okay for you if I sit here?’.
Same guy was standing In front of me pointing to my left side with his left
hand while holding coffee in his right hand. ‘Sure’ I said. He sit next to me.
We started taking. He is an artist and teaches same time. I told him that I am
a poet with interest in visual arts. We talked about ‘art scene in India’ and
‘girls’. He possessed good knowledge about art and girls also. While talking I
saw at his eye brows. He had chiselled eye brows. He took out packet of
cigarettes from his pants’ right pocket. He smokes chhoti gold flake which used
to be my brand five years ago, now I smoke classic ultra-mild. He took one
cigarette and put it between his lips, almost hanging. Now I know boys looks
handsome like this. I noticed his, well-shaped lips, ‘beautiful lips’ I
thought. I am not a gay but I had an inclination for this guy. Maybe he noticed
this, so to shatter the situation he offered me cigarette. I thanked him for
this and took mine out from my blazer’s
pocket. I lit mine and his cigarette. I
realized that we had been talking for almost forty minutes. I was already late
for the play. I got up and told him that I am to go. I expressed that I was a
good talk. He expressed the same and gave me his card. ‘Mohit Kant Mishra’, his
card says his name. well I don’t give my card who don’t need it and won’t need
it, he was from ‘won’t’, so I didn’t give him my card. He asked my name. ‘you
have a very handsome name….i like it….you can call me by your name….’ I said
and moved to theatre.
By
Mohit Kant Mishra
Nov 24, 2014 Delhi.
Nov 24, 2014 Delhi.
Sunday, 26 October 2014
Wednesday, 8 October 2014
Wednesday, 1 October 2014
As You Are Not Here
I wish you were mine,
So I could have gifted you
All the roses
This world can have.
I wish you were mine,
So I could have made the dishes
Which would have surprised you
And had a kiss in exchange
I wish you were mine,
So, I could have been yours,
We would have been related
And discovered each other.
I wish you were mine,
So I could have been able
To take care of you,
And have the pleasure of making you happy.
I wish you were mine,
So we could have talked
The things you never talked to me
And I would have taken you to my secret garden.
I wish you were mine,
So I could have hugged you
When you needed one
Without your permission.
I wish you were mine
So I could have taken all your anger
And kissed you
if not able to take.
I wish you were mine,
So I could have touched you
With tender, compassion, love
And have known you more than you do.
But you are not mine.
every day I live without you
and go to sleep
hoping you will be here,
I will be able to go to sleep
Seeing you face.
As you are not here
I wish to sleep
So night may pass
And tomorrow I can wish
That
You were mine.
by
Mohit Kant Mishra
September, 29, 2014 00:23 Hrs Delhi
Dekho Kaun Aaya Hai
Dekho kaun aaya hai,
Ye hai mera yaar
Mera hamraaz,
Baith mere yaar
Aur suna kahan tha itane din,
Aisa kya mashgool tha
Jo bhoola yahan ka raasta.
Yaar ne tere bada yaad kiya,
Poochh le saare muhalle se,
Jisase teri khabar na mangi ho teri
Wo de jaye gaali mere muh par.
Chal chhod ye baatein,
Bol kya chal raha hai
Kaise wakt nikal raha hai,
Lekin pahele ye bata
Tera muh kyun utara hai?
Kya aa raha hai kisi gami se,
Ya dekh liya kisi yamdoot ka chehara.
Kyun aankain soi nahin hain teri
Kya ko anhoni hui hai
Ya koi sapana basa hai iname.
Ik ghadi dekhane de to mujhko,
Ab samajha tera yaar
Dekhi hain maine ye aakhain kai baar.
Ab guftagoo ka maza aayega,
Main bhi kabse thaka baitha tha,
Ab bahegi shayari hawa main
Ab roshan hogi shamme mahphil
Ab shabab aayega raat par
Ab thirkenge pair bhi mere,
‘ek jaam mere liye bhi lana’
Mere yaar ne saqi se bola.
‘Ab to mafilon ki baari,
Lagata hai mere yaar ka dil toota hai’
By
Mohit Kant
Mishra
September 29, 2014 00:24 Delhi
Monday, 22 September 2014
The Problem
I want to talk
I know you can hear
I know you are there
I know your name
I know you can think
I know you only
I know you have a voice
I know you dance
I know you want
I know you have to say
I know you are shy
I know you resist
I know you miss
I know you care
I know you love
But there is a mistake...
I am not the man you are in love with.
by
Mohit Kant Mishra
September 19, 2014 Delhi
Well Well Well
to meet
to have coffee
to listen
to share
to tolerate
to support
to admire
to analyse
to fantasize
to have feelings
to express
to repeat*
to shout
to doubt
to hug*
to exchange
to discuss(argue)
to fight
to shop
to map
(what a trap!)
to care
to correct
to neglect
to negotiate
to smile
to repress
to sit
the only worst verb is
“to expect”.
September 19, 2014 Delhi
Thursday, 14 August 2014
Wo Chala Gaya Hai
वो चला गया है
वो साइकिल पर बिठा कर
बाजार घुमाने वाला चला गया है ,
वो अचानक आकर , रसगुल्ला दिखा कर
चिढ़ाने वाला चला गया है ,
वो गुस्से से तमाचा लगा कर
रुलाने वाला चला गया है ,
वो तम्बाकू में चुना मिला कर
खाने वाला चला गया है ,
'पता नहीं है मुझे' कहता था अक्सर
वो अपने में ही ग़ुम रहने वाला चला गया है ,
वो चौड़े माथे वाला
चुटिया दिखा कर हँसाने वाला चला गया है ,
चाय , एक चाय , एक और चाय ,
हर बात पे चाय बनबाने वाला चला गया है ,
मैं रोता हूँ , मैं भी रोता हूँ
वो गले लगाने को पास आने वाला चला गया है ,
वो चला गया , वो चला गया है
सारे शिकवे लेकर , अपना नाम दे कर
वो चला गया है .
Mohit Kant Mishra
June 15, 2014
Khabar
aaj khabar aayi hai
ki agale shukravaar ko
ye zahir ho jayega
ki wo chala gaya hai,
ab use yaad karane ka silsila
khatam karana hai
ya shaayad yaad hi nahin karana hai,
ab usaka zindagi bhar ka kamaya hua
baant lena hai,
usaka khud ka saaman bhi
jo us laal bakse mein hai,
bantana padega,
kitane hisse karenge
kaise hisse karenge
samajh nahin aata,
filhal to fikra karani hai
ki agale shukravaar ko
sabake thik se khaana khila diya jeye
koi naaraz na jaye
varna badhi badnaami hogi (hamari)
us hardum muskarane vale ki,
aakhiri baar dekha tha
to chehara bada shaant tha
kuchh nahin bola
bas aankhain band kiye
na jaane kya sochata raha,
usake chehare ke daanyi taraf
maathe par nishaan
hamesha ki taaza aur saaf
nazar aata tha,
agale shukravaar tak
us nishaan ko bhi bhool jana hai
ab maan lena hai
khud ko samajha lena hai
ki wo chala gaya hai.
Mohit Kant Mishra
June 23, 2014
My father Madan Lal Mishra died on June 14, 2014. He was giving his services to Indian Railways. He loved tea, folk music and hindi novels. He lived his life taking care and protecting his family.
Tuesday, 22 July 2014
Sunday, 20 July 2014
Dear John (Antidote)
Every word is a wound,
the experience go through
kills me a
little,
a little more,
and a more
little..
little by
little
i become used
to it
and now my
body has developed an antidote
to protect
me ;
the dislike,
is my strength,
to dislike i
breath,
the dislike is
me,
because i want
the things
the other way
round
and without
any hope
i will dislike
till it
changes.
MOHIT KANT
MISHRA
Sunday, 29 June 2014
Thursday, 12 June 2014
Saturday, 17 May 2014
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