Word Wizardry

Word Wizardry

Mann Ka Makaan


 मन ने मकान बनाया था

ज़मीन-ए-ज़िन्दगी पे कुछ साल पहले।
वहां नींद, जज़्बात, ख्वाब और फ़िक्र,
साथ किराये पे रहते थे।

भले एक ही जगह थी
जहाँ चारों का बसेरा था।
मगर चारों के मिज़ाज,
एक दूसरे से अलग थे।

सब सुकून से रहते थे।
पर नींद से किसी की नहीं बनती थी।
फ़िक्र, जज़्बात और ख्वाब तीनों को
नींद, नागवार थी।

नींद तो बदइख़लाक़ हमेशा से थी।
ज़्यादातर रातों में कहीं भागी रहती थी।
और रात भर उसके इंतज़ार में,
फ़िक्र जागा करती थी।

जज़्बात और नींद दोनों को,

एक दूसरे से इतनी रंजिश थी
की जहाँ जज़्बात रहे वहां नींद नहीं
और नींद रहे तो जज़्बात नहीं।

ख्वाब से भी इस नींद की
अजीब अनबन चलती थी।
ख्वाब नींद को चैन न आने दे,
तो नींद ख्वाब को बेसूकून करे।

पर एक माजरा ये भी था।
सबसे पहले इस मकान में
नींद ही बसने आयी थी
उसको बेदखल करना भी मुश्किल था।

नींद की अक्सर गैरमौजूदगी से
मन के मकान में खलबलि रहती थी।
और इलज़ाम -ए-जुर्म हर बार
बाकी तीनों पे लगता था।

ख्वाब के कई दोस्त थे।
कहीं बाहर से मिलने आते थे।
अक्सर उसके साथ में,
कोई “निराशा” रहा करती थी।

मोहब्बत इतनी मज़बूत थी,
ख्वाब और निराशा की;
की इधर ख्वाब कुछ करने चले,
उधर निराशा तुरंत साथ हो ले।

जज़्बात सबसे खुशमिज़ाज था।
हर किसी के लिए मौजूद था।
अक्सर वो भी यूँ ही।
कई दिलों से मिलने जाता था।

एक वक़्त के बाद मगर ऐसा हुआ
दिल के अंदर कुण्डी लगा के
उसने खुद को अंदर बंद कर लिया।
और अरसों तक बाहर नहीं आया।

थोड़ा सा डरने लगा वो;
ज़माने से घुलने मिलने से।
जो दिलों का वज़न बढ़ाया करता था,
वो न जाने किस बोझ तले दब गया।

और फ़िक्र, वो तो बड़ी अजीब थी।
बेवक़्त बिना बात छत से झांकती थी।
हरदम मुँह लटकाये, पीछे हाथ बांधे,
वो इधर उधर टहला करती थी।

न जाने अपने साथ फ़िक्र,
कितनी बरबादियाँ ले के आयी।
वो खुद तो डूब ही रही थी;
बाकी तीनों को भी लिए जा रही थी।

पर सबसे ज़्यादा वक़्त घर को,
फ़िक्र ने ही दिया है हमेशा।
बाकी सब तो आते जाते रहे,
ये कभी घर से बहार ही नहीं गयी।

सब कितने अलग थे,
पर फिर भी साथ रहते थे।
और सालों से किसी ने भी;
किसी का भी साथ नहीं छोड़ा।

पर ये कुछ “इंसान” नाम के जीव थे।
वो सारे दीखते तो एक ही जैसे थे।
फिर जाने क्यों ऐसा होता था,
वो एक दूसरे का साथ नहीं दे पाते थे।

खैर, एक रोज़ एक तूफ़ान आया,
और मन का ये मकान गिर गया।
तहस नहस हो गया सब झटके में।
और सबको ये घर छोड़ना ही पड़ा।

नींद, जज़्बात, ख्वाब और फ़िक्र
फिर भटक रहे हैं इधर उधर
एक पनाह की तलाश में
एक नए मकान की तलाश में।

मन ने मकान बनाया था
ज़मीन-ए-ज़िन्दगी पे कुछ साल पहले
वहां नींद, जज़्बात, ख्वाब और फ़िक्र,
साथ किराये पे रहते थे।

– 🌹कार्तिक मिश्र🌹

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Do we need fair and lovely or dark and sexy?


Do we need fair and lovely or dark and sexy?
Once in our lifetime we come across a stage where every dark and dusky girl has to face problems because of her not soothing complexion. Or Indian society lives in there bubbles of idealism where fair skin equals beauty. People have a say, for any parent, his or her daughter is the most beautiful girl in the world. But any girl judged by the colour of her skin can never feel the saying she was once proud of. Is that a NO for fair and lovely? I’d have to say yes! Not every fair girl is pretty, does that mean dark and sexy is good? the answer here would be NO.
Confusing, isn’t it?
Why is the second question a NO? Or why the answer to the first question is a yes? it’s because we Indians have never realised that your colour doesn’t matter unless you reveal the person you really are. We are unable to accept ourselves the way we are. Instead we want to see ourselves from another person’s point of view.
Ever thought about Africa’s models? If fair was beauty, the African girls would have never entered any beauty competitions. The reason they reach to such high level, is the acceptance of there personalities, colour, the pride they carry. Their love for there skin is same as any of us. But what counts is the confidence.
Imagine yourself going to a parlour and asking a foundation, the shopkeeper firstly would give you something to make your skin fair. What we fools think is, if we get fairer , we get attractive. That’s how the society rates us! One should be confident enough to speak that I don’t need a fair complexion to be attractive, all I need is a good courageous heart to accept the pride I carry with my skin.

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Word Wizardry

Open letter to a BFF I lost


Hey bestie,

Well, I don’t know if I can address you with that anymore or not. But the kaleidoscope of our memories being best friends still run fresh in my mind. The journey from an awkward handshake to singing out loud and screaming at each other in public will always make me laugh. How people used to get confused between our names as we were always stuck together and others used to call us as a lesbian couple. Inseparable weirdos they would say.

Even though I was the one who broke the pact of our friendship, I miss it the most.
You were my ‘all-time-person’ , the one who heard my story in a melodramatic way, the one I could lean on anytime, anywhere but something didn’t click after all. You were always there for me and I don’t know if telling you all this now would make even a little bit of a difference. For me, this would atleast make me feel that I did even a bit on my part to tell you your worth in my life. This is to tell you how much you still mean to me.

I remember how I dodged your calls over and over again, started keeping secrets from you when I knew there was something happening in my heart, feelings were the cause. It happened for one of our common friend and He asked me out and I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t.

I was afraid that you would judge me because We used to say if we don’t get a guy till 30 we would start live together and take over the world. The only difference in us was that you didn’t believed in concept of love and I was a hardcore romantic. I could actually never tell you that clearly because it I thought it would make me sound less “cool” . As you termed those things to be “relationshit ” I couldn’t bring myself to tell you that I believe in the idea of love.

And that’s when I started hiding things from you. I ended up hiding my relationship from you, i ended up doing everything we promised not to do. I brought this opaqueness in the transparent friendship of ours. The only regret I will always have is that I should have told you what I really felt and shouldn’t have tried to hide my emotions and opinions just to be in “cool people” . Maybe because I didn’t want to lose you but I did anyway. And this mistake costed me our friendship.

Take this letter as an apology. Apology for not turning out to be the best of best friends and to the promises I made. I owed you this.

  • With a heavy heart
    Best friend, maybe.
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The Lost friendship


That was the time when the story began,
Three different people when shook their hands.
Soon their friendship got much fame,
Besties was what they gave it a name.
From attending lectures to bunking classes,
Jealous of them were the rest of the masses.
Time passed, their friendship grew strong,
Secrets, gossips, everything they shared among.
Unaware were they of the destiny’s play,
Never thought one day they will drift away.
Then came a time when everything changed,
The popular friendship lost its name.
Together they are standing still,
But destiny now has changed its will.
Somewhere deep they still miss each other,
Nobody but speaks this further.
Watching those pics my eyes are wet,
Why did this friendship came to an end?
I wish i could bring back the time,
When everything was proper n fine.
Wherever you go i pray that’s good,
Want to bring back that friendship if i could.

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I cannot write


I cannot write about the butterflies that wander around the lilies and sunflowers on a sunny day nor about how they tickle my stomach when we kiss while cuddling.
I cannot write about the waves of water that brush the soft sand of beach uncountable times a day nor about how the waves of your hair brush your cheeks while you are working on your sketches.
I cannot write about the sparkling glow of the starry sky with a bright moon shining with them nor about your sparkling eyes that comes handy with your shining smile.
I cannot write about the mountains and valleys and all the beautiful landscapes that God has created nor about your perfect body as if carved by the God himself.
I cannot write about the depth of oceans or the purity of Ganges nor about the beauty of your virtuous heart or the wisdom of your witty brain.
I cannot write about you

nor about love

nor about how much I loved you

and nor about how much you didn’t.
-Purvang J.

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Man at the sunrise

I remember the day when I met you and realized that how keenly I started noticing that weird change around me. It’s like I never paid attention to such LITTLE THINGS that somehow always existed but I always in rush with my life that it got overlooked. Looking out for bigger picture was always my thing but it was you who made me realise how most little things that I usually ignore, can be a great source of our happiness.

You know, happiness is overrated. We tend to seek it from the bigger things instead it’s the little things that make us feel the happiness.

Initially, it was so weird for me how little things like seeing a squirrel enjoy its meal or even getting a gift from Kinder Joy could make you feel so elated and happy about it.
I used to remember how the bigger materialistic things or toys gave me joy but you, you waived your imaginary world apart from these ideologies. For you, the happiness came from the tiniest creatures, smallest toys, weirdly moulded things and the list goes on.

“You taught me that SIZE is not proportional to joy.”

The little things and moments that made you happy was what kept on inspiring me. Meanwhile, I sensed something crazy happening with me. I began to seek happiness from those little things you used to feel happy about.

And this time, I would sheepishly smile when you excitedly told me about the little gift or how you loved to see a squirrel eat.

And this time I knew, I had started to fall for her. These little things turned out to be pathway towards her beautiful heart. For her smile and her way of reaching out for little things. Unbelievably, it was me who started doing those little things for her just to see her happy.

But timing’s a bitch.

You changed and those little things don’t matter to you anymore. I still gulp the harshness of change.

I just wanted you to know that here I am still stuck in this world which you’ve left and I can’t find a way out. Even your footprints have vanished to lead me a way out of this.


I feel helpless but you know what?
In a way, I am so thankful to you for showing me that how amazingly these LITTLE THINGS can have a hold in your heart.

I guess am stupid. I still do these LITTLE THINGS for you and I hope will they ever mean to you as they used to. It has simply stopped functioning or maybe ran out of battery.

I guess, I BECAME YOU and YOU BECAME ME in the end.


Because you know what did I learn?
There are a lot of little reasons why big things in our lives happen.

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from birth to her rebirth


Blessed by a daughter, mother took her into her lap,father kissed her forehead.

“God bless her.  She is cute, but she is dark…” a voice muttered, and her story began…
‘Story of birth to rebirth’

Its the story of just couple of hours old infant, who didn’t even opened her eyes completely to see the world,  Yet the world criticized her.

Its the story of a school going young girl who was discriminated by her class fellows because of her colur.

Its story of a lover whose prince charming resided in her dreams only. Afterall, princes take only fair maidens with them.

Its a story, about the rising actor, who was brought down by her teacher from school play featuring her as princess, because princesses are never meant to be dark and dusky.

Yet, one must not forget, every Dusk is followed by Dawn.


A CHILD in her,
A FRIEND in her,
A LOVER in her,
An ACTOR in her died,
but a revolutionary WRITER was born.

 –  Nikita Jaiswal 

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मोहब्बत, ज़िन्दगी और मौत की


सदा रोशन रहने वाले उस घर में जाने क्यों

उस दिन एक विचित्र अँधेरा था। एक काली रात थी।
सूरज की उज्जवल किरणें जो कभी सुकून लाया करती थीं,
आज सबके देह और ह्रदय जला रही थी।

हर व्यक्ति गवाह था, उस घर की खुशहाली का।
जिसमे एक बुज़ुर्ग जोड़ा अपने परिवार संग रहता था।
एक बेटा था हंसमुख सा, एक बेटी थी चुलबुली सी।
और जीवन रेखा सी मुस्कान वाले उनके दो नाती और एक पोता।

बेटा, बहु और पोता शहर के बहार निवास करते थे,
उनकी याद में और नातियों की अटखेलियों में, उस बुज़ुर्ग जोड़े का,
दिन गुज़र जाता था। सब कुशल मंगल चल रहा था।
पर उस दिन बात कुछ अलग थी। वो दिन भिन्न था।

प्रतिदिन से अलग दिनचर्या थी कुछ उस दिन।
नातियों की अटखेलियां, बिटिया की चुलबुलाहट देखने नहीं मिल रही थी।
जाने क्या माजरा था, क्या ऐसी बात थी।
बहार से कुछ भी समझ नहीं आ रहा था।

मैं अंदर गया घर के। एक अजीब माहौल था।
एक अजीब कराहता हुआ सन्नाटा था।
घर के उस खुले आँगन में एक घुटन सी थी।
वो चेहरे भावहीन पड़ गए थे,
मुस्कान डेरा जमाए बैठी रहती थी जिनपे कभी।

फिर नज़र गयी उस चुलबुली बेटी पर।
जो की अपनी माँ पे एक मज़बूत पकड़ बनाये थी।
माँ, जो सफ़ेद कफ़न में बर्फ की सिल्ली पे लेटी थीं
और तब समझ आया की क्यों सबकी आंखें पिघल रही थीं।

तब वजह पता चली, सूरज की उस तपन की,
तब वजह पता चली, खुले आँगन में घुटन की।
तब समझ आया की सन्नाटा क्यों कराह रहा था।
तब समझ आया की क्यों मुस्कराहट अपना घर छोड़ चली थी।

“ऐसे कैसे चली जायेगी?” पूछा बुज़ुर्गवार ने अपनी बेटी से, “कैसे चली जायेगी?”

“कुछ देर पहले तो पूछती थी की
खाने में क्या बनाऊं आज?”

“झूठे हो सब, अभी देखना उठ के रायता बनायेगी मेरा पसंदीदा” कहा बुज़ुर्गवार ने।
जिनकी आँखें शायद सूख चुकी थीं।
रोने के लिए आंसू बाचे ही नहीं थे उनके पास शायद।
“अभी उठेगी”, बस यही उम्मीद जीवित रखे हुए थी शायद।

“देखो करवट बदल रही है वो शायद, या शायद गर्दन कुछ हिली है!”
सबको ध्यान से देखने को कहा उन्होंने।
क्योंकि जो उनकी आँखे उन्हें दिखा रही थीं,
वो शायद वह दृश्य देखने को तैयार नहीं थे।

कतारें लगने लगीं, सहानुभूति देने वालों की।
कुछ तो आये, क्षण भर खड़े हुए और चल दिए।
प्रदर्शनी समझ के आ गए थे शायद भूल से वो,
या तो शायद, इंसानियत से भी कोई बड़ा काम पड़ गया होगा।

“मैंने कभी नहीं सोचा था कि माँ मुझे छोड़ जाएँगी,
उन मौन दर्शकों से बेटी ने कहा।
जिसका टूटा मन और सूजी आंखें ये कह रही थीं
की अब वो चुलबुलाहट सदा के लिए मर चुकी है।

फिर भगा भगा बेटा घर पंहुचा। और मजबूती दिखाई।
पूरे परिवार को और खुद को संभाला उसने।
लोग आते रहे, मिलते रहे, जाते रहे।
और इसी प्रक्रिया में काफी समय गुज़र गया।

घण्टों बीत गए थे। मगर बेटी वहीं बैठी रही।
हलके से कफ़न हटा के अपनी माँ का चेहरा निहारती।
और चेहरे को देख कर फूट फूट के रोटी वो
माँ के जाने से, अकेली पड़ गयी थी वो।

समय का चक्र चला उसके बाद।
“लाश गाड़ी” वाले पहुंचे लाश लदवाने को।
और वो “माँ” “मौसी” “बुआ” इत्यादि कही जाने वाली,
इतना जल्द “बॉडी” में तब्दील कैसे हो गयी, पता ही नहीं चला।

ज़िन्दगी की मौत से पाक मोहब्बत देखि मैंने उस दिन।
ज़िन्दगी रोज़ मौत को किसी की आत्मा की भेंट देती है।
मौत सदा के लिए उसे सहेज के रख लेती है।
और इन दोनों का साथ, बिलकुल अटूट है।

🌹कार्तिक मिश्र🌹

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The nature appeals


For the tree which stands still,
Giving oxygen and fulfilling your will.
To the rain which makes you wet,
The drops of heaven again I bet.
That sand you all step upon,
Made by earth’s coloured crayon.
I’ve found a way to see them doom,
Don’t spoil it with the harshness of fume.
Protect me for I am innocent,
Look with your eyes so vigilant.
Those pretty kids of yours,
Will play in my happiness drawers.
You may not find me when I’m gone,
Time will change, not dusk and dawn.
For the sky who gets prettier again,
Do not think it’s not in pain.
I , the nature wants to see,
Nothing that gives us misery.
Demand is for your love and care,
Think about me in dream and in prayer.
I will serve until I’m done,
You’ll realise that I’m the one,
Giving life ,not taking any,
Some things you can’t buy from money.
Conservation is what I ask,
To stay alive and resume my task.

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Word Wizardry




Dear future lover,

Sorry if I’m asking a bit too much but I hope, I really hope that you’re a Hopeless Romantic, head over heels kinda romantic.

I know that being rational is the best way to get your relationship going, that forever is a lie and every break up makes you want to fall in love even lesser but still after knowing all this brutal truth, I want to make “us” memorable. I want you to take one day at a time and live with me. For once, but yes I want someone hopelessly in love with me.

Is it too difficult for you to love me with every nerve you’ve got?

I wonder if you’re dealing with a break up right now and deciding onto never loving a girl so much. Then wait, I’ll tell you what I’m in for.

The kind of love that makes you go weak in your knees. Not the fancy or the ideal movies type of romantic. That’s never been my thing. But the one which is too messy to handle yet we hold onto us tight. I am the kind of girl who would burst into tears with your 4 am call or a good morning text. If you would bring me food instead of flowers or tell me about your vulnerabilities on a Friday afternoon and suddenly grab me for a kiss. I warn you I’m a task that you’ll have to attempt to handle and would possibly force you to be my gossip partner. That’s what I am waiting for. For you to be my working week and my Sunday rest.
But trust me, I’ll be worth it, every inch of it.

All the things we’ll do for each other in the name of love. The little things, the little moments? They aren’t little. They will never be for me.

That’s what my idea of a Hopeless romantic is. I hope you end up being in my definition of it.

I might be asking too much out of you because that’s how I love. I fall hard and I won’t mind if it hurts.

Hope hurts. But I hope you end up being hopelessly in love with me and always keep me hopelessly in love with you too because I would choose you over and over again every single time and under any circumstances.

Still not yours,
A girl who awaits.

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