That Man on the Radio: Neelesh Misra's Yaad Sheher

"I was walking on my terrace late at night, shuffling through radio channels on my keypad phone with earphones plugged in when suddenly I landed on a channel, on a voice to be precise and it held me forever... Since then I've never slept a night without listening to Neelesh Misra and his stories..."

This is how most of us can describe our finding of our favourite storyteller on the radio. We all randomly landed up on a side of the radio where stories from the Yaad Sheher were being told in a voice so soothing that it held us forever. On drives back from work, while trying to fall asleep, on post-dinner walks or just a lonely night — one of these times or instances brought us all to Yaad Sheher and connected us to Neelesh Misra. That one accidental turn of the dial, that one pause before changing the station — and life quietly changed for so many of us.

When Radio Was a Member of the Family

It wouldn’t have been possible if radio wasn’t a huge part of India’s everyday life back then. We’re talking about a time when all homes still had a radio and it was actually used. It sat in the living room like a family member — sometimes covered with a crocheted cloth, sometimes placed near the window, sometimes right next to the kitchen so music could travel with the smell of tadka. Televisions had become important, yes, but radio had still not lost its charm. In the 2010s and the years later, if one had a car, radio was the only source of entertainment during long drives and the even longer traffic jams. Between red lights and flyovers, voices and songs became companions.

The journey of India’s radio connection has anyway been long and beautiful. After all it was the radio where India’s freedom was announced back in 1947 by the newly elected Prime Minister — Jawaharlal Nehru. Families gathered around a single device, listening in silence, history entering their homes through sound alone. No visuals. No scrolling ticker. Just a voice and a nation listening together.

It was also the radio where India’s youth, years later, listened to romantic songs and imagined a love story like the films. Kids these days won’t even believe there was a time when songs were only heard on the radio or once in a week on Chitrahaar and the lyrics were to be noted down in your diary so you could later sing them to your beloved from a PCO or a landline — if you were lucky enough to have one. You would wait with a pen ready — “shhh, shuru ho gaya!” — and scribble fast before the next line slipped away. Those lyrics weren’t a simple Google search away back then. Memory was manual. Love was rehearsed. Waiting was normal.

Time passed and radio slowly lost its charm to the newly coming TV shows and fairly so. Television had a visual engagement, after all. You could see things and watch everything you wanted and that too, on repeat telecasts. Television had more stories to tell and thus a wider market. Radio slowly grew limited to cars and keypad phones and mostly just for songs and advertisements. It felt like sound had been pushed to the background of a screen-hungry world.

The Storytelling Revolution on Indian Radio

But that was to change sooner than anyone expected.

Somewhere in Mumbai a lyricist who had been a writer and journalist for a long time was planning to change India’s radio world. A new show, a new idea — but the old feeling was on its way back. A show of stories of nostalgia and of shared experiences for all Indians at once. Stories where nothing “big” happened — and yet everything happened. Love, loss, letters, small towns, tea stalls, railway platforms, unsent messages, unfinished conversations.

Yaadon Ka Idiotbox on BIG FM was meant to be just a show with a storyteller telling stories about an imaginary town, but what it soon became was pure magic. Listening to the radio became a habit all over again in every Indian home and even abroad. It became a ritual to tune in sharp at 9 PM — some on radios, some on phones, some secretly under blankets with earphones plugged in — and listen.

“Baat Be Baat Pe…” — The Line Everyone Remembers

And then it would begin — that familiar opening that listeners can still recite by heart even today — “Baat be baat pe apni hi baat kehta hai… mere andar mera chhota sa sheher rehta hai…” — spoken in the unmistakable voice of Neelesh Misra.

For many of us, that line was not just an introduction — it was a doorway. The noise of the day stayed outside, and a small, breathing, feeling town opened inside our minds. Some would close their eyes immediately. Some would increase the volume slightly. Some would say, “Shhh, shuru ho gaya” again like old days. And just like that, for the next few minutes, nothing else mattered.

Stories That Felt Personal to Millions

Nobody knew the man behind this voice and yet there was a personal connection each time they heard him. The stories of love, of relationships and the small moments of life that we normally ignore slowly became a huge part of our lives. People found peace in them. The ones who found it difficult falling asleep, found their calm here. The ones facing hardships in life found solace in the simple joys the stories talked about. Many listeners say even today — “it felt like he was telling my story,” or “it felt like someone understood without me explaining.”

Relationships became stronger, friends came together, hostelers and students away from home found a home away from their own. Many cities had the same scene at the same time — someone lying on the bed staring at the ceiling fan, someone sitting by a window in a paying guest room, someone driving through an empty late-night road — all listening to the same story, at the same moment. The world slowly shifted a little. Only enough for people to be happier — and calmer — human beings.

From Radio to Digital — The Story Continued

The storytelling journey did not stop there. New radio and audio formats followed, including The Neelesh Misra Show on Red FM, and later long-form audio series like Kahaani Express across digital streaming platforms such as Spotify and JioSaavn — but the essence remained the same: a voice, a pause, a feeling, a mirror held gently to everyday life.

Live shows happened, auditoriums filled, people laughed and cried together listening to stories being performed on stage with music. Books came. Recordings came. Digital platforms came. But the storyteller remained the same and still is — a storyteller at heart first. Journalist, lyricist, entrepreneur — yes — but above all, a narrator of human emotions.

World Radio Day — Listening Without Screens

And what made it possible was just this radio. The radio that gave the storyteller his listeners — and the listeners a storyteller they would never let go of. Even today, when everything is on-demand and on-screen, that memory remains — of turning a dial, finding a voice, and feeling less alone.

On World Radio Day, maybe it’s worth asking softly — when was the last time you listened, without looking at a screen, and let a story paint its own pictures in your mind?