Took M.Sc(Mathematics) Utkal University, Ph.D(Computer Science) IIT Kharagpur.
Worked in Electronics Corporation of India Limited, Hyderabad
Currently Professor in Department of Computer & Information Sciences, University of Hyderabad, India. more »
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Hrushikesha Mohanty Poems
A Big gate stared at me today With its protruding long tongue Guarded by branching out trees. Awkward at stares and giggles of waiving branch
After giving F-grade*
Lilly shot down moon Tortoise whisper spreads Sun hid all flowers Morning broke the news.
You and Me
You and Me Left behind the big iron gate that gulped so many days and years of mine. I also spent those many days
Only to Wait!
Today the Sun is dim and so also my pupils and I'm threatened in my despair; it swears to stay with unlike before. Henceforth, I will succumb to and shrink to shell; stopped boarding running town bus
Go beyond; Go beyond the posts and gifts and behold - standing aside there
See me, how poor I'm on earning so long, I remain far away
You touch me I reveal; I reveal to the farthest I blossom to the fullest
This is not a Question of that Kind
Hrushikesha Mohanty (English Version of the Odia poem published in Digbalaya April 2010) http: //mokatha.blogspot.com/2010/04/ieta-semiti-gotie-prashna-nuhen.html
Joy of Descend
A meditation of difference That was an awakening of difference Not only for self elevation But for others -
I resemble to everyone But myself In sea of crowd, Serpentine queues of malls,
The Last Spring
Stood like a lonely palm tree Far away from green fields; Stretching arms up To touch the moon with a hope.
From seven-palm-tree depth of ocean Tsunami of desires blew up. Pushed the cloud away But
Whimper to Glee
Pristine white cloud floating in open sky Hanging bats latched on Spreading dark skinny wings Paint slur on the cloud
Searched your footsteps on sandy beach, fingertips on stones you carved but could hear the whispers of the bulls telling the tales of your artistic hands
Comments about Hrushikesha Mohanty
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
A Big gate stared at me today
With its protruding long tongue
Guarded by branching out trees.
Awkward at stares and giggles of waiving branch
Found few stars hanging.
They appeared and disappeared.
Disappointing to judge how many were there
Whatever could be, true
I found them there.
Hope you can see those
On every possible corners
Even daring out in Mid-May Sun.
Take a pause to count
And if you can pocket those
Like Cricket heroes
To cheer on billboards.
Scramble for stars here on grounds...