“बरामदे की धूप” available in book format


bkd_back_pagebkd front pageIts an year and so, I haven’t update anything in blog. But good news is that I was trying to publish the content of blog in the form of book…and result is fruitful. All the poems of this blog are available in the form of book and e-book.You can buy it from online websites.

Hope all my readers love this sunshine of gallery.

And yes…this year I will be active…promise.

Here are the links of book.
Flipkart:
Ebay:
Infibeam:

बरसो हुए


कल वाले दिन अब परसों हुए
उस जुनू को जिये बरसो हुए

दिन कटता था जिसके दीदार में
उस इश्क़ को किये बरसो हुए

वो भी क्या दिन थे
लगता हैं सब कल परसों हुए

हाथो में हाथ हसीना का साथ
उसे बाँहों में भरे बरसो हुए

जिस मंज़र से की थी इस क़दर चाहत हमने
उस गली से गुजरे बरसो हुए

याद करता हैं वो चौक का चौकीदार हमें
इस मोहल्ले में चोरी हुए बरसो हुए

“ठाकुर” आ जाओ तुम फिर से अपने रंग में
कि तुम्हे भी किसी का दिल चुराये बरसो हुए

आशिकों कि ज़मात में एक तुम्हारा भी नाम हो
जो मिटाए ना मिटे फिर कितने भी बरसो हुए

“Be an angel and save the life”


I used to travel fifty kilometer daily to reach my office. During this time, I meet several people who does the same travelling everyday like me, and this travel provide us enough opportunity to learn and understand the people from spectrum of interesting characters. One of my friends from same group used to take a bottle of petrol with him. I asked him why he carries such a dangerous thing and he replied with very surprising answer. He runs a collection agency and he has to travel a lot due to work. On highways, he finds many bike riders who push their vehicle due to finishing fuel. My friends pour the little amount of petrol into their tank so that their bike can reach at nearest fuel pump. I was not sure whether he is helping many people by this way. However, by travelling with him, I have witnessed that he helped at least one person in every week. His philosophy is very simple -“I don’t have time to search for a needy people and help him, so I started helping the needy person who automatically comes in my way”

I am not suggesting anyone to carry a fuel bottle, but my intention of writing this article is same as my friend’s philosophy – -“Nobody has time to find the needy people, so let’s help the needy person who automatically comes on our way.”

Few of my colleagues at office have done something with similar intention. They have design an app – “Save the Life”. It is a simple app, which asks you about your contact number, location and blood group. By registering in app, you will become the voluntary blood donor. In case, any person in your city or town has emergency requirement of blood, he can contact you by this app. same way you can also find several voluntary blood donor, who can come at your doorstep in just three clicks at this app. However, this dream of my friends can turn into reality only when we have lakhs of voluntary blood donor spreads in every corner of country. That is why I wrote this post; it is my humble request everyone to download this app and become a voluntary blood donor.

India has a blood deficit of 30L units every year. 90 L units are collected every year and out of which 40% is sold (paid donors), 40% is donated by family and friends of needy and only 20% is voluntary.

Blood is not for SALE and we should have 100% voluntary blood donor.

Our Mission –“100% blood donation through Voluntary blood donors and Just in Time availability of donor with just 3 clicks.”

I need your help to spread the word in your acquaintances/groups/alumni network/ Corporate HR or anywhere in your area of influence.

Some assurance about the app “Save The Life” –

  • It will not show any advertisement on your mobile screen
  • It will not steal and sell any of your personal information
  • It will not cost more at phone memory and internet plan. Hardly 3 to 4 MBs download; nothing else.
  • “Save The Life” team is not accepting any funding from anyone

Look forward for all-possible help from everyone and everywhere, so that we can help the needy who automatically come at our way rather than spending energy in finding needy people. Moreover, it will also give us satisfaction that we help a person when he needed our help badly; like my travelling friend who works like an angel for the poor helpless man in dark night, bad weather, blank highway, empty fuel tank and hurry to reach home.

रहे ना ज़रूरत कभी खून को खरीदने की
ज़िंदगी के लिए मानवता को भटकने की…

बम


उस घर पर बम ना गिराना कि वहाँ भी एक बेटा रहता हैं
खटिया पर खांसता हुआ एक बुढा भी लेटा रहता हैं !

एक धमाका खामोश कर देता हैं मुस्कान कई माँऔ की
क्या बम बनाने वाले नहीं जानते कि माँ का भी कलेजा रहता हैं !

जहाँ बम नहीं गिर रहे वहाँ बन्दूके निकल आई हैं
मजहब के नाम पर मौत की संदूके निकल आई हैं !

मैं जानता हूँ मेरे दरवाजे पर किसी धमाके की आवाज़ नहीं आती हैं
देखते हैं कब तक मेरा शहर इस गूंज से महफूज़ रहता हैं !

शान से कह देते हैं हम लोग कि हमें क्या करना हैं
हर कायर इस मुल्क में मासूम बनकर रहता हैं !

हर सुबह “ठाकुर” खुद से ये सवाल पूछता रहता हैं
अख़बार की इन सुर्खियों पर तू कैसे चाय की चुस्किया लेता रहता हैं !

पुल


सपने अपने होते हैं, हकीकत बेगानी होती हैं
जो मिल जाये ये दौनो तो महान जिंदगानी होती हैं !

वैसे ये ज़िन्दगानी भी किसी नदी की तरह होती हैं
इसके एक किनारे पर सपने तो दूजे पे हकीकत होती हैं !

दौ किनारों को मिला सके ये हुनर तो खुदा में भी नहीं
हम इंसानों की कोशिश तो इन किनारों पर पुल बनाने की होती हैं !

मिट्टी सपनो की होती हैं, पत्थर हकीकत के होते हैं
और जो जमा दे इन दोनों को वो पकड़ इरादों की होती हैं !

कमबख्त ये बहाव, उलझाव इरादों को पकड़ बनाने भी नहीं देता
जिस पत्थर को उठाओ उसकी मंशा बह जाने की होती हैं !

बस बहती नहीं हैं तो ये ख्वाहिश पुल बनाने की
इसकी इच्छा तो हरदम वक़्त को मुँह चिड़ाने की होती हैं !

पर ये वक़्त ये बहाव किसी का हमदम नहीं दोस्त
इसकी फितरत भी बस बह जाने की होती हैं !

“ठाकुर” वक़्त रहते अपना ये पुल बना लीजिये
ना जाने कौन सी घड़ी साँसों के बिखर जाने की होती हैं !

 

 

दर्द अपना अपना …


(निर्देश :- इंदौर-उज्जैन सड़क मार्ग पर देखी गयी सत्य घटना पर आधारित कहानी)

१००-१२० की रफ़्तार से दौड़ रही गाडियों की गति अचानक ही उस मोड़ पर कम हो रही थी | हर कोई गति धीरे करके उस नज़ारे को निहारता, फिर गाड़ी साइड से निकालते हुए आगे बढ़ जाता | दूर से देखने पर लगता था की कुत्तो के पिल्लो का झुण्ड वहाँ सड़क के बीचोबीच ऐसे ही जमा हो गया हैं | पर पास आने पर दिखाई देता हैं की उनके बीच उन पिल्लो की माँ भी बैठी हुई थी, और उसके नज़दीक ही रखा हुआ था एक नन्हे से पिल्लै का मृत शरीर | वो पिल्ला शायद किसी तेज़ गति की गाड़ी के नीचे आ गया होगा | पेट की आंते बाहर आ गयी थी, सड़क पर कुछ खून भी फ़ैल गया था, शरीर पूरा अकड गया था और वातावरण में भयानक बदबू फैली हुए थी | पर इतने पर भी वो पिल्लो का झुण्ड और उनकी माँ वहाँ से जरा सा भी सरकने को तैयार नहीं थे | वहाँ से निकल रही गाडियों में बैठी संभ्रांत महिलाये अपनी नाक पर रुमाल रखकर बड़ी घृणा से वो द्रश्य देख रही थी | और पुरुष तो ऐसे देख रहे थे जैसे ये उनके लिए रोज की बात हो | कुत्ते के उस छोटे से पिल्लै को सहानुभूति से देखने पर शायद उनकी पौरुषता पर दाग लग जायेगा | पर इस सब से बेखबर इन दुखहारियो पर गाडियों के हार्न से ना कुछ फर्क पड़ रहा था, ना ही तेज़ गति से आ रही गाडियों के नीचे आ जाने जाने का उन्हें कोई भय था | ना वहा कोई भौक रहा था, ना वहाँ कोई रो रहा था | बस माहौल में अजीब सी शांति फैली हुई थी, जो किसी के लिए अचरज का प्रतीक थी तो किसी के लिए दर्द का प्रतीक |

अचानक वहाँ एक बस रुकी और कुछ यात्री उतरे | बस के कंडक्टर ने एक पत्थर उस झुण्ड पर दे मारा | कुछ पिल्लै झुण्ड को छोड़कर इधर-उधर दौड़ाने लगे | बस से उतरे एक यात्री ने दूसरा पत्थर फेककर बाकि झुण्ड को भी वहाँ से हटाने की कोशिश की | अभी सारे पिल्लै वहाँ से भाग चुके थे | पर उन पिल्लो की माँ अभी भी बैठी हुए थी, अकेली उस मृत शरीर को चुपचाप टकटकी लगाकर देखते हुए | शायद शोकाकुल माँ को अभी भी ये उम्मीद थी की सड़क पर फैली ये आँते सिमटकर पेट में चली जायेंगी और पिल्ला फिर से खड़ा हो जायेगा | अभी कंडक्टर ने तीसरा पत्थर मारा जो सीधे कुतिया को लगा | ड्राईवर भी बस उसके सामने लाकर जोर-जोर से हार्न बजाने लगा | अभी कुतिया को भी अपने दिल पर पत्थर रखकर वहाँ से उठकर जाना पड़ा, पर उसकी अत्यंत धीमी चाल और मुड-मुड़कर पीछे देखना ये बता रहा था की वो वहाँ से कही और जाने को कतई तैयार नहीं हैं | कुतिया सड़क के किनारे जाकर खडी हो गयी और वही से पिल्लै को निहारने लगी | बस के गुजर जाने पर उसने वापस अपने स्थान पर आने की कोशिश की, पर पीछे से आ रही निरंतर गाडियों ने ये मुमकिन नही होने दिया | अभी वो किनारे पर खडी होकर पिल्लै के शव की निगरानी करने लगी | एक तेज़ गति की गाड़ी पिल्लै के सीधे पेट पर से गुजरी और उसकी बची कुची आँते भी बाहर आकर बिखर गयी | इसके बाद तो गाड़िया निरंतर उस मृत पिल्लै के चिथड़े उड़ाने लगी | पर वो कुतिया काफी देर तक चिलचिलाती धुप में सड़क के किनारे खडी होकर मृत शरीर को देखती रही की शायद किसी पल तो ये खून और आँते सिमटकर शरीर के अन्दर चली जाये और वो मृत पिल्ला पुनः जी उठे …

The Sai Tea


No matter how much we believe in science and technology, one cannot completely deny the existence of super natural power called God. Many times, life put us at the point where human efforts are helpless and we depend completely on the blessings of these invisible powers. My belief on Sai baba is also come in the category which can’t define by logic and facts. It’s just I feel that Sai Baba is the source of all my energy and efforts, although he doesn’t do anything physically. Being Sai devotee, I wanted my wife to visit Shirdi Sai Baba temple at first priority when she informed me about her pregnancy. It would be our first child and I didn’t want to start the most precious phase of our life without the blessing of Sai Baba. That was just start of her pregnancy days so doctor also allowed her to travel. With the happiness of being parents and the spirit of Sai-Darshan, we packed the bag and started our journey to Shirdi.

There are several ways to reach Shirdi but I always preferred the path that goes from the Rahman Miyan’s restaurant. His dhaba cum tea-shop cum restaurant is situated between Dhule and Malegao at NH69 (Agra-Bombay Highway). My Shirdi visit never completes without taking rest and sipping tea at Rahman Miyan’s restaurant. When first time I visited Rahman Miyan’s restaurant, a Sikh truck driver told me that there is some magic in Rahman Miyan’s hands; his tea tastes different from others. That truck driver use to visit all over India, but he never experienced such an amazing taste anywhere in India. At that time I thought that he was overrating Rahman Miyan but the moment I sipped tea, I too became fan of Rahman Miyan. Once I observed his tea making process to check anything special in the process but I didn’t find anything different. He also follows the same process for making tea that is being followed in every home in India, but his taste is indeed unique. Once I asked this question to Rahman Miyan what’s special he does with tea. Rahman miya’s serious face turned smiley on my question and he replied that “bas uska hath he mujhpar” (it’s all the gift of god).

Rahman Miyan has little area for restaurant but its indeed very clean and peaceful place. He runs this restaurant twenty four cross seven from last eight years. Rahman Miyan is silent and serious kind of person, he never talks so much with anyone. But his personality is quite impressive, six feet tall with lean body and fair complexion. He always wears white kurta-payjama with white round cap in head. Being a true Muslim, he offers five time prayer daily. Friday is very special day for him, he take off from restaurant work on Friday and devotes his full day in religious rituals only. My connection with Rahman Miyan is more than just a customer and restaurant owner. I am the only person with whom Rahman Miyan talks so much. Like me, he is also quite fond of literature. He knows Hindi, English and Urdu very well. We mostly talk about books, poems and Gazals. From Munshi Premchand to Paul Cohelo, he reads everyone with same interest. Similarly from Galib to Nida Fazali, he remembers the shero-shayari of many Urdu poets. Sometime, I recite my poem to him and like a critic, he provide his valuable feedback to me. Apart from literature, we also exchange our spiritual views on religion and human life. Every time I come to Shirdi, I spend almost one hour at Rahman Miyan’s restaurant only. Like Sai Baba temple, his restaurant also became the place that fills me with positive spirit.

It was Friday when I was travelling to Shirdi along with my wife. We reached at Rahman Miyan’s restaurant in the morning at 10. Like every Friday, Rahman Miyan was not there but his restaurant was open. We ordered some breakfast and took the rest. My eyes were looking for Rahman Miyan, though I knew Rahman Miyan doesn’t meet to anyone on Friday. After finishing breakfast, I went to the Rahman Miyan’s home at the backside of restaurant. I looked from the window; Rahman Miyan was busy in performing Namaz. One of the members from his staff told me that it will take one hour to meet Rahman Miyan. I was in hurry to reach Shirdi so I took the off from there and went to Shirdi.

Like always, Shirdi town was packed with tourists and devotees. Shirdi is a small town around Sai baba temple with full of hotels and Dharamshalas. We reached there at 2 in the afternoon and were very hungry. We took a room in hotel, got freshen up and took the lunch. After lunch , we took the rest of  one hour and went to Sai Baba temple at around 5 in evening. That was a busy day in temple and there were thousands of people gathered for Sai-Darshan. It took almost four hours for us to wait in long queue for Sai Darshan. There was an arrangement done in temple to manage the crowd in temple. Every queue has to move from eight different passages (halls) before reaching to Sai Baba statue. This arrangement has been done so that queue is in running position always and crowd can be dispersed rather than accumulating at common place.

The arrangement in temple was good but people around us were not decent. They were unnecessary pushing each other to get ahead in queue. That is why sometimes it is creating state of stampede especially at narrow passages. I was protecting my wife because she was pregnant but crowd was really very rough and harsh. Failing to my efforts, she was also got blow many times.

Overcoming all such troubles, we finally reached in front of Sai Baba statue after three hours. There were thousands of people standing in the small space and thousands more behind us waiting for their turn. There was tight security staff, who were shouting and pushing everyone to offer the prayer and move fast. When I reached in front of statue, I joined the hands, closed the eyes and bend my head to offer my prayers. But next moment when I opened my eyes, I was pushed by security person to exit gate. Same way my wife also joined the hands and closed her eyes. Next moment, she too pushed at exit door but her exit turned into a small accident. My wife is little short in height and when security staff was trying to push her, he caught her hairs in hand rather than shoulder. It filled my wife in tremendous pain and by the time she relieved from pain, she got slipped at the staircase and fell down at the exit gate. It made a scratch at her forehead and it turned red. I was angry on the mistreatment done by security staff. I went to him, hold his collar and shouted at him. But he pushed me and shouted at me to let him do his duty. I was again angrily moving towards him but my wife stopped me and we went out from the temple.

We went to doctor and doctor said that it’s just a minor injury and we need not to worry. He put a bandage at my wife’s forehead and gave some medicines. Doctor may assure us from worry but I was not relieved yet. I went to the office premise in the temple and complained against security staff. But the authority there was not ready to take my excuse. He argued me that there are lakes of people came daily and they have big responsibility to manage such huge crowd every day. They have to be such strict and alert always to avoid any unwanted incidents. Though he said sorry for my wife, he was not ready to take any action against his staff. It made heated argument between both of us and finally I returned from there with disappointment and anger.

That night I couldn’t sleep and thought about the incident only. It put questions to my devotion to Sai baba. People like me come from miles away and what they get in return are such troubles and mistreatment. Inside the temple, we hardly get any place where we can peacefully perform our prayers. Rather than happiness and blessings, people are returning with tiredness, troubles, bad memories and sometime injury as well. It’s just not waste of time and money but a joke of our emotion and belief too. Next day I left Shirdi with decision that I will not come here again. If god is everywhere then why are we searching for him in temples only? At some point of time, we have to break all such beliefs and customs, and listen our mind only.

It was early morning when we left the Shirdi so there was less traffic on road. Plus I was also in mood of anger and anxious so I put my foot hard on accelerator. I was so hurry in returning that I forgot about Rahman Miyan also. It was my wife who remembered me about him when we were crossing his restaurant. Though I didn’t want to take halt, I stopped at restaurant for the sake of my wife only. When we entered in the restaurant, Rahman Miyan was just returning after his morning prayer. He greeted me with smile and asked about the journey. He ordered his staff to take order from us and went to kitchen for preparing tea for us. My wife ordered some breakfast and left for the washroom.

To pass the time and to chit-chat with my dear friend, I went to kitchen where Rahman Miyan was preparing tea for us. He was putting vessel on stove for preparing tea. I told him that I visited last day also but couldn’t meet as we were in hurry for visiting temple. He said sorry for not meeting me last day and said God’s work always come first. Till the time, tea water in the vessel has boiled and Rahman miyan was stirring the water so that tea can be mixed well in water. The boiled water remembered me about my anger but Rahman Miyan was treating tea-water as a child. He added some milk and again stirring the tea with help of spoon. His way of making tea made me think about a father who is touching, kissing and playing with his kid. “Rab dee mehar chakhani hain?” (Do you want to taste the God’s greatness?) Inspite of Hindi and Urdu, he asked in Punjabi to me while offering some tea to taste. “No, I already tasted Rab dee Mehar and I am sure your tea is better than god’s greatness” I replied him in rough tone.

He got that I was not in right mood to talk that day. “Is everything all-right?” he asked me in surprising tone. “Rahamn Miyan, it may be our last meeting because I would not be coming to Shirdi now.” I let him knew about my decision. He enquired about the reason of my decision and I told him all about how I got hurt by mistreatment done to my wife at temple. He smiled on my incident and told me that I am a lucky man. I asked disappointedly about what’s lucky in such accident. He sighed for a moment and said – “Ten years back, I was a farmer in a village at coastal area of Gujrat. One day a mob gathered in front of my home and they were shouting ‘Jai Sri Ram’ slogan. I was out of the village that day but my wife was there at home. The bloody crowd burned my home and my wife also burned with home. I left the village from that day and came here and started this restaurant for living. I knew Rama didn’t come that day to kill my wife and also Allah didn’t have intention to take the life of my wife. I never gave the blame of misdeed of some people to my god. I still have complete belief in Allah and I pray him every day. So I must say that you are lucky man as your wife is alive and smiling right there at the table.” I turned back and saw my wife; she was smiling while talking to someone over phone. I took the excuse from Rahman Miyan and went to join my wife in breakfast. But Rahman Miyan told me to think about what he said.

I came to my wife and Rahman Miyan served tea to us. With every sip of tea, the negativity of my heart was shedding and mind was relaxing. I was sorry over me for being judgmental under emotion and questioning over the belief of my soul. Rahman Miyan made me realize about eternity of god. Sai baba is not in that statue only but he also resides in the people like Rahman Miyan also who believes in god in spite of all such troubles of life. Now I could understand why his tea tastes so amazing; because it has the spirit of God in it.

“So, are you coming next time?” Rahman Miyan asked me while I was paying the bill. “Yes, until Sai Baba is serving such wonderful tea to us” I replied with smile and took the off from there.

Dream, Dare and Define the Destiny


In this whole world, it’s just you and your integrity are with you
In this whole planet, it’s just you and your integrity are in your control
Believe in you and feel the integrity
Because rest of the world is just shape of this unity.

Close the eyes and see your eternity
Listen your voice and know the almighty
When you break the boundaries and touch the equity
You will know one truth of law of dignity.

You are not here to repeat the heredity
You are here to dream, dare and define your destiny.

(Note – This poem is purely inspired by Rabindranath Tagore’s poem ‘Where the knowledge is free.’)

 
~ Ankit Solanki

 

गीत : वो मंजिल मुझे मिलेगी जरूर …


आसमानों से आगे और क्षितिज से दूर,
वो मंजिल मुझे मिलेगी जरूर …
रब की होगी रजामंदी उसमे,
और किस्मत को भी होगी कुबूल !
वो मंजिल मुझे मिलेगी जरूर …

सामने हैं समंदर मेरे पर कश्ती हैं बहुत दूर
लहरों की गुजारिश हैं संग खेलना हैं जरूर !
लगने दे डर थोडा, होने दे थोड़ी भूल
सैलाबों से लड़ना हैं तो हिम्मत भी दिखानी होगी जरूर !
कश्तियो सी डोलती और किनारों से दूर
वो मंजिल मुझे मिलेगी जरूर …

बचपन में सुनी थी एक कहानी मशहूर
जो रखता हैं धीरज वही जाता हैं दूर !
फूल तो मुरझाकर हो जाता हैं चूर
पर ये खुशबू उसकी हो जाती हैं मशहूर !
उस फूल सी कोमल और खुशबू से भरपूर
वो मंजिल मुझे मिलेगी जरूर …

पानी की खोज में गड्डा खोद रहा एक मजदूर
मिट्टी के ढेलो से पता पूछ रहा एक मजदूर !
जो मिल जायेगा पानी तो जी जायेगा ये मजदूर
वरना अपनी कबर तो खोद रहा ही ये मजदूर !
उस पानी सी बेशकीमती और कब्र सी निष्ठूर
वो मंजिल मुझे मिलेगी जरूर….

वो मंजिल मुझे मिलेगी जरूर !
रब की होगी रजामंदी उसमे,
और किस्मत को भी होगी कुबूल !
वो मंजिल मुझे मिलेगी जरूर …

सचिन डांस


This time I tried my hands in parody. Wrote special version of famous song ‘Lungi Dance’ for the great Sir Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar 

दिस इस द ट्रिब्यूट
टू “द गॉड”
फ्रॉम “आल द इंडियन”
एंड वन एंड ओनली “बरामदे की धूप”

बालो को थोडा कर्ल करा के
आवाज़ को पतला बना के
१० नंबर की जर्सी पहन के
आ जाओ सारे बैट घुमा के

आल द सचिन फैन…
ओ सचिन
यु आर अवर सुपर-मेन…
ओ सचिन

सचिन डांस …सचिन डांस
गॉड डांस…गॉड डांस

१६ साल की उमर में आया मैं तो
मुझको रोक पाया ना शौऐब ना मुथ्थ्यो
अपने मूड में ही बैटिंग मैं करता
किसी के भी डैडी से नी डरता

जिसको जो भी करना था कर लिया
मुझको आउट पर कोई ना कर पाया
मेरे साथ पंगा जिसने भी ले लिया
उसको सपनो में भी मेने डरा दिया

आई ऍम द क्रिकेट गॉड
आई ऍम द ओनली लार्ड
सचिन डांस …सचिन डांस

फ्यूचर में जब कोई क्रिकेट खेलेगा
उसको तेरे हाथ जोड़ना पड़ेगा
तुझको भगवान कहना पड़ेगा
तेरे जैसे ही मुस्कुराना पड़ेगा

तू अब भले क्रिकेट ना खेलेगा
पर हमारी यादो में हमेशा रहेगा
जब भी कोई कुछ महान करेगा
उसको जमाना सचिन ही कहेगा

आल द सचिन फैन…
ओ सचिन
यु आर अवर सुपर-मेन…
ओ सचिन

– अंकित सोलंकी
१७ नवम्बर २०१३, उज्जैन (म.प्र.)

मुसाफिर


आसरा मिला मुझे तो आसमानों से
मुसाफिरों को क्या मोहब्बत मकानों से !

आ जायेंगे हम तेरे एक बुलाने से
कि नाराज ना हो हमारे चले जाने से !

बचपन से ही रहते हैं हम दीवानों से
आजाद, बेखबर दुनियादारी के ख्यालो से !

जो मिला नहीं हमें इस शहर की दुकानों से
वो पाया हैं हमने इन रास्तो के मुकामो से !

आवाज़ आती हैं मंदिर, मस्जिद और मयखानों से
कि होती हैं इबादत भी हुनर के आजमाने से !

‘ठाकुर’ सुना हैं हमने ये अपने कानो से
कि लिखते हो तुम भी ग़ज़ल मस्तानो से !

सुनाते रहना यु ही अपनी दास्ताँ अल्फाजो से
कि ढूंडेंगी दुनिया एक दिन तुम्हे तुम्हारे निशानों से !

करीम और केदार


करीम
मेरा एक दोस्त हैं जिसका नाम करीम हैं,
उसे लगता हैं मेरी हर ग़ज़ल ताज़ातरीन हैं !
ज़िन्दगी जीने का वो बड़ा शौक़ीन हैं
अल्लाह पर भी उसको बहुत यकीन हैं !
अपने मोहल्ले का वो तबलची नामचीन है
और मीठे से ज्यादा उसको पसंद आता नमकीन हैं !
वो कहता हैं कि मज़हब तो बस जज्बाती ज़मीन हैं
वहाँ खड़े हो जाओ जहा अपना-अपना यकीन हैं !
असल मोहब्बत तो इंसानी भाईचारा और ये सरज़मीन हैं
इससे गद्दारी मतलब खुदा की तौहीन हैं !
मैं जानता हूँ इस मुल्क में ऐसे न जाने कितने करीम हैं
पर उनमे न शामिल अब मेरा दोस्त करीम हैं !
क्युकी कल दंगो में मारा गया करीम हैं
और उसके गम में मेरी ग़ज़ल ग़मगीन हैं |

 

केदार
मेरा एक दोस्त हैं जिसका नाम केदार हैं
वो कहता हैं मेरी हर कविता भगवान का चमत्कार हैं !
दिखने का वो सीधा सा और पेशे से लुहार हैं
मेहनत की रोटी खाता वो आदमी होनहार हैं !
वो मानता हैं कि ये धरम-वरम तो बस बारिश की बौछार हैं
कही भी भीग लो सब कुछ कुदरत का उपहार हैं !
असल प्रेम तो ये मिट्टी और मानवीय सदाचार हैं
इससे वफादारी मतलब भगवान की जयकार हैं !
मैं जानता हूँ इस देश में ऐसे ना जाने कितने केदार हैं
पर उनमे अब ना शामिल मेरा मित्र केदार हैं !
क्योकि कल दंगो में मारा गया केदार हैं
और उसकी कमी से मेरी कविता बेकार हैं !

वो गीतों में मेरे रंग भर देता हैं !!


वो गीतों में मेरे रंग भर देता हैं ,
छेड़कर तारों को तरंग भर देता हैं
मेरे ही ख्वाबो ख्यालो को बुनकर
इन गज़लों को मेरे संग कर देता हैं !

मैं सो भी जाऊ तो वो मेरे संग रहता हैं
बेरंग सपनो को सतरंग कर देता हैं
ये उसका ही हाथ रखा हैं मेरे ऊपर
जो हर मौसम को बदलकर बसंत कर देता हैं !

आवाज़ नहीं उसकी पर सुर निराले हैं
नज़र नहीं उसकी पर नैन मतवाले हैं
सारी दुनिया हमारी पर हम उसके दीवाने हैं
वही हैं जिसे हमसे इतने फ़साने लिखवाने हैं !

वो हर अहसास को मेरे आवाज़ दे देता हैं
शोर को भी साज़ दे देता हैं
ख्यालो को थोड़ी आँच दे देता हैं
और गीतों में मेरे बाँट देता हैं !

वो कविताओ में मेरी कूक भर देता हैं
दिल से निकली हूँक भर देता हैं
मेरे ही मुह से निवाला खाकर
वो मुझमे लिखने की भूख भर देता हैं !

मन को मेरे मलंग कर देता हैं
जोड़कर इरादों को बुलंद कर देता हैं
डर को डिब्बो में बंद कर देता हैं
और ज़ख्मो को इस कदर पैबंद कर देता हैं !

वो गीतों में मेरे रंग भर देता हैं ,
छेड़कर तारों को तरंग भर देता हैं !!

सियासत


बात मुझसे जुडी हो तो जानना जरूरी हैं
समस्या कैसी भी हो समझना जरूरी हैं

कितनी भी बात करे हम लोग भलाई की
भला करने के लिए बुराई लेना भी जरूरी हैं

ये लोग जिन्होंने सियासत को खेल बना रखा हैं
जानते नहीं की खेलने के लिए मैदान साफ रखना भी जरूरी हैं

एक अरसा हो गया इस खेल से खिलवाड़ होते देखते
कि अब इस खेल के दर्शको का जागना जरूरी हैं

मैं जानता हूँ कि मेरी एक आवाज़ से कुछ नहीं होगा
मेरी आवाज़ से तेरी आवाज़ का मिलना जरूरी हैं

रोटी के लिए जीने वालो कुछ सोचो मुल्क के बारे में
कि चिराग के जलने के लिए हवा का चलना बहुत जरूरी हैं

– अंकित सोलंकी
२८ जुलाई २०१३, उज्जैन (म.प्र.)

सितम


ज़िन्दगी एक सितम मेरे नाम कर
मुझे नाम दे या बदनाम कर

यु ना मेरी सूरत को गुमनाम कर
इसे पहचान दे या कुरबान कर

आसमाँ को ताकू इस आरज़ू से मैं
कि कोई तो नज़राना मेरे भी नाम कर

लायकी नहीं तो आशिक़ी में बखान कर
नायको में नहीं तो खलनायकों में शुमार कर

बस एक किस्सा मेरे भी नाम कर
कि देखे मुझे लोग सांसो को थामकर

“ठाकुर” मेरी छलांग में इतना फौलाद भर
की एक पैर हो जमी पे और दूजा हो चाँद पर

 

 

ख़ुशी


रुई का गद्दा बेचकर दरी खरीद ली,
ख्वाहिशो को कम किया और ख़ुशी खरीद ली !

कुछ पुरानी पतलून बेचकर चड्डी खरीद ली,
क्रिकेट को छोड़ा और कबड्डी खरीद ली !

सबने ख़रीदा सोना मेने सुई खरीद ली
सपनो को बुनने जितनी डोर खरीद ली !

मेरी एक ख्वाहिश मुझसे मेरे दोस्त ने खरीद ली,
फिर उसकी हँसी से मेने अपनी ख़ुशी खरीद ली !

इस ज़माने से सौदा कर एक ज़िन्दगी खरीद ली,
दिनों को बेचा और शामे खरीद ली !

सपनो के सिनेमा में एक सीट खरीद ली,
चुकाया पूरा बिल और पक्की रसीद ली !

रुई का गद्दा बेचकर दरी खरीद ली,
ख्वाहिशो को कम किया और ख़ुशी खरीद ली !

My third song – Dil ke rasto par…


As a lyricist and singer, my third song is unveiled.  It was originally a Gazal that I converted into song by adding rhyme and music. Hope you enjoy it and bless me with the shower of your love and encouragement.

Song can be listen at link – http://www.ujam.com/songs/9gMPMBrN59Z4

Here are the lyrics of song :-

दिल के रास्तो पर दलदल भी मिलेंगे
ख्वाब सजेंगे,
दिलबर मिलेंगे,
पर लोग भी जलेंगे !
तराने रूमानी ये सुहाने तो लंगेगे,
पर डर ये हैं,
बात ये हैं ,
कि लोग क्या कहेंगे !!
दिल के रास्तो पर ………………………………………..

कोई कुछ कहेंगे, कोई कुछ ना कहेंगे
बोलने वाले ,
पर कहने वाले,
चुप ना रहेंगे!
दरवाजे नसीबो के जरूर खुलेंगे
पर खेल जीवन के,
ढोंग बनावट के,
इरादे भी परखेंगे !!
दिल के रास्तो पर ………………………………………..

ना हैं कोई गीत ये, ना ही कोई ये ग़ज़ल हैं
लिखता हूँ मैं,
सुनाता हूँ मैं,
जो हाल -ए-दिल हैं !
सुनकर के आ जाये तुमको जो याद किसी अपने की
तो समझ लेना,
उससे मिलती,
मेरे यारो की शकल हैं !!
दिल के रास्तो पर ………………………………………..

My love for languages


I love languages. Name really doesn’t matters, whether its Hindi, English or Arabic, I love them all. It’s not just language; I love all the mediums that give voice to human emotion. It may be painter’s canvas or poet’s poem, a sculpture’s statue or musician’s nodes; I am in love with everything. Even I like the gestures that symbolize human emotions like smile and cry. God has also his way to show his ideas and emotion. Don’t you think nature also talks with us by the means of rain, winds, clouds, sun-rays;  even silence of nature also speak a lot. I don’t know about others but nature does affect my mood; rain delights me, sunset put me in philosophical mode and silence of night scared me.

There is a very good word in English language ‘Feel’. I like each and everything that make me ‘Feel’. My love for language is just because it makes me feel and sensible. It makes me feel what other people think and feel. It makes me connect with other people and same time it also help me to express myself. Languages also make me feel that I am a human, more than just a machine that converts meal into energy and wastage.

If I say language as my love than I must say ‘Hindi’ is my first girlfriend. I fell in love with this language when I was at 5. Even now a day, I feel like I am married to this language. The reason, why I love this language, my mother introduce me with language. Before I knew Hindi, I used to know my mother by her touch only. This language gave me beautiful medium to understand my mother, to understand her thoughts and to feel her emotion. Whenever I speak in this language, I feel like I am playing in the lap of my mother like a small kid. Believe me, I could die for such feel; and this is why I used to talk in this language a lot.

There are many people like me who are married to this language. This thing is really pinching me now days that we love our wife but we still feel shy or inferior to go out with our wife. She cooks tasty meal in our kitchen and does whatever she can to make our life comfortable and healthy. But we are making her home imprisoned in return. She should go out, even it’s our duty to hold her hand proudly and let world see our treasure of art and literature.

After Hindi, there was another girl came in my life ‘English’. She was hot, sexy and super stylish (at least looks like!). Everyone wanted to fall in love with her. She had come from different culture and that is why I attracted towards her. Her western attire and ascent looked amazing to me. I got crush on her but it was not easy for me to catch her. First, she belongs to entirely different culture. Second, I was not the only one who loves her. Everyone in my group had his own reason to love her; someone loved her because she was the guarantee of golden future, someone wanted to show off his status quotient by grabbing her. I love her because she also make me ‘FEEL’; she give me the similar pleasure of ‘FEEL’ that I was getting from Hindi. For me, Hindi and English languages are like wine packaged in different bottles. English is poured into shiny glass bottle while Hindi is filled out into some soil made pots. This is why people attracted towards English more as glassy looks fancy than clay. However, they forget that its wine that matter the most, not the bottle.

As for as me concern, I used to drink both with equal spirit and I am in love with both types of wine. Both have their own fragrance, ingredients and taste but essence of both are same. They both made me FEEL. They delight me, excite me, energize me, seduce me and satisfied me too. As I said it’s the wine matter me most and until my tongue and heart are satisfied with taste, who the hell cares about packaging bottles.

There is one important thing about English that I missed to mention while amalgamating ladies and wine. At first look, English looked a bit complex to me, but as I came close to her, I found her extremely simple, sweet and innocent. After meeting her, I got to know the fact that women all around the world are same. Whether they wear jeans or sari, all they want is attention, expression and dedication. And if you show all these three things to them, they will bless you with unconditional love and eternal wisdom. If we talk about my relationship with English on these three parameters, I must say I am always attentive to English. In fact this is the language that grabs my attention most. I never hide anything to express in this language even if I make several syntactical mistakes. My expressions are always true and honest for her and I think this is the main reason she never disappoints me even if our differences in culture. If I talk about dedication then I must say I am not full time dedicated to her, especially when I am married to different woman. But dedication doesn’t mean you are always in the physical proximity of a person. Dedication defines by the purity and honesty of emotion for someone. Radha and Meera, both were dedicated to lord Krishna; however both were not in the physical proximity of Krishna always. I have pure and honest thoughts about English and I think she know it very much. She knows that I always have something to say or express, and I always looked at her with honesty and trueness so she never says no to me. She is always there when I need her to be the voice of my expression and thoughts. Thank you English for so kind on me!

As I started talking about ladies and languages, there is one more fact that I want to share before we move on to my next girlfriend. Whether it’s a language or ladies, all the layers of their heart are made up of glass; you can see everything easily but you could not understand everything. Why few characters are silent in some of the words in English, How English can manage everything in just twenty six characters while Hindi takes fifty two for the same, why there are upper case and lower case in English but there is nothing like case in Hindi, why there are synonyms in languages when both the words intended to use for same purpose. Few miseries of woman heart and languages are never understandable by man’s mind.

Life looked colorful to me with two girlfriends and I was thankful to God. But God was so much overwhelmed with me that he made me born in the land of love and languages. There is another girl came in my life. She lives in the corner street of our town and her name is ‘Urdu’. She is the lovely and bubbly girl of my town. She is the perfect combination of style and sweetness. She has the flavor of what we called in her own words ADA (style), ADAB (dignity) and TAHZEEB (culture). When ‘TU’ or ‘TUM’ is replaced by ‘AAP’ or ‘JANAB’, listener automatically feels ‘someone special’ from ‘just ordinary’. Believe me, there is no other language in the world that make you feel so special other than Urdu.

I love Urdu but I am still in exploring mode for this language. Especially when it comes to writing, my fingers get jammed. But Urdu is not just one I want to take chance; there is one more. She is the daughter of priest of my town and her name is Sanskrit. She is holy, pure and divine. Wherever she goes, an environment of devotion and wisdom created around her. Love her is not an easy game like Hindi or English.  She is a bit complex and I can understand her complexity as she represents our incredible ancient wisdom and prosperousness. She has the ocean of words and wisdom that articulate every human emotion or thought best way possible. I must say she has the most charismatic personality I ever met in my life; when she murmurs it feel me like the music of flute and when she speaks it make me enjoy soulful song. Believe me, Sanskrit is the only language in the world that use the all aspects of language so effectively and beautifully. Every sentence in Sanskrit ensures the delivery of right amount of information with perfect balance of emotion and adequate amount of attraction.

My love for languages is not finished with just Hindi, English, Urdu and Sanskrit. There are endless counts of ladies that are next in the list… Marathi, Gujrati, Punjabi, Telgu, Bangla. I have some very interesting dreams about languages like learning a strange African language that is still unknown to mankind, write a song that has words of all languages and can easily sing by everyone in the planet, writing a poem that doesn’t belongs to any language but still everyone can understand it. The dreams that excite and terrify me at the same time is about visit Afganistan and learn their local language; I really want to write few love songs in the language that mostly used there to speak the voice of terror and fear. My most pleasant dream till date is go for Europe trip and learn the languages that witness the rich heritage of art and literature. I don’t have just dreams about languages; I too have few notion (or myth) about me for languages. I feel like god gifted me huge capabilities to please all my girlfriends… (Sorry languages!). He had given me treasure of thoughts in mind and eruption of emotion in heart. These two gifts ensure I always have something to say, and until and unless I am honest in saying something, every language welcomes me with open hands.

But it’s not love all the time; I have few complains with languages too; or may be complain with people who are speaking these languages. First, now a day’s language is playing role in dividing people. Believe me, no language was invented to divide people; in fact purpose of language is just reverse of it. Languages come in existence to connect people; they provide a common platform so that people can easily share their thoughts and feelings. It’s really heart breaking to see people now a day disconnecting with each other due to languages.

Second thing I hate, people connect languages with religion. Hindi is the language of Hindus, English is for Christian and Urdu is of Muslims; why is it so. Tell me what language a person will speak who doesn’t believe in any religion. Languages never need the religion for their existence. Religion is a thought or belief and language is a way to express thoughts. These two things are totally independent; we should not attach these with each other. This thought really scared me more than visiting Afghanistan that what happen when languages are stick with specific religion and defined only within geographical boundaries. It will be really suicidal moment for people like me who can not satisfied with just one type of language, love and wine. I think these three things should always cross the boundaries and reach as many people as possible. As a language lover, I must say language is the most incredible gift to mankind; it should be used in spreading love, peace and harmony.

I am not finished with my love story yet. I have a lot to say about languages but time and space is not permitting me. I have to finish up this post, may be some day we again continue our discussion.

She comes to share, she comes to change.
Her name is woman, her name is language.

मेरा गाँव, मेरा देश


 

गाँव वीरान हैं, कसबे बेजुबान हैं
शहरों में रहने चला गया वो जो घर का जवान हैं

आता हैं घर ऐसे जैसे मेहमान हैं
बूढी आँखों को फिर भी इतने में इत्मिनान हैं !

कहने को नगर हैं, कहने को महानगर हैं
ऊँची इमारतों के नीचे पर एक लम्बी गटर हैं !

आदमी हैं कुत्ता जहाँ और औरत बिल्ली हैं
मुंबई हैं मुसीबत यारो और डरावना दिल्ली हैं !

हैं कुछ नौजवान दोस्त मेरे जो पढ़ न सके
कुछ तो अच्छा किया जो माँ-बाप संग रह सके !

आया जब भी गाँव में मैं अपनों की खोज में
था अकेला में जवान वहाँ बुढ्ढो की फ़ौज में !

कभी कटती थी फसल जिन खेतो और खलिहानों में
आज कालोनिया कट रही थी वहाँ मिटटी के मैदानों में !

कुछ रहे ना रहे मेरा गुरुर जरूर मिट जायेगा
गाँवो का गुलशन एक दिन शमशान में बदल जायेगा !

वो गाँव की गौरी बस तरानों में रहेंगी
वो पनघट वो बोली बस बातों में रहेंगी !

मैं सोचता हु उस समय भी ये आबादी क्या इसी मजे में रहेंगी
भूँख से बिलखती सोसायटी क्या मोबाइल से पेट भरेगी !

शाम होने को हैं यारो, रात भी होकर रहेंगी
सुबह का सूरज क्या सूरत लेकर आये, ये बात डराती रहेंगी !

 

Epilogue – This poem is my concern about our villages that are losing their identity on the map of shining India. Rather than facilitate villages and small towns with basic needs of life, we are destroying them on the name of development and modernization. It’s really pinching me to see the pictures like green farms are converting into colonies and the migration of youngsters from towns to metro cities. I put all such thoughts and emotions on paper with the hope that it makes you feel some hotness of the fire that is burning inside me.

Prayer, Parents and Profession


Its an experimental article – i just jotted my random thoughts on various topics and put them together in the form of an article. Hope you like it.

Prayer – Some words are really fascinated me. Isn’t it a good idea to pray? It added a spirit to me, a spirit to be positive, to be calm, to be kind and most important to be myself. When both hands touches together, head bents and eyes are closed, I get freedom from being Ankit Solanki. I become a free bird of an open sky, who could think anything, who could do anything; no barriers are there on my thoughts, dreams and desires. The darkness all around my vision looks like the universe to me and I resemble myself with the little source of light that I could see only after closing the eyes. It’s moving, revolving, igniting, diminishing, brightening, fading and again igniting…it’s a great pleasure to watch myself like this. Soon the darkness of universe shaded and I can see the entire new world of my thoughts and dreams. This world is fully based on my internal wisdom and eternal emotion. But this internal wisdom and emotion are not fully imaginary; Many times my knowledge, perception and emotion that I shared with external world make the foundation of the internal world. And its vice-versa is also true; many times the internal wisdom and emotion amalgamate into my attitude and behavior with external world. Really prayer is the continuous process of self-learning and self-evolving. No teacher and no books can give such education that prayer produces. I think this may be the reason prayer is compulsory in all schools and religions all around the world.

*****

But I must confess I am not regular in prayer. If you talk about the conventional way of prayer, you find me praying rarely. Being nurtured in a Hindu family, we have a little temple in my home, in which you can find idols and photos of many Hindu God and Goddess. My mother prays regularly in the temple. But she does it only after completing her household duties. Her morning starts with serving us first. Whether its chilling winter day or hot summer, she wakes up early in the morning daily. She prepares tea and breakfast for everyone. She ensures that everyone is leaving comfortably for school, college or job. Many times she cooks the lunch early in the morning itself when my father goes to our farms at village. After saying bye-bye to everyone, she cleans the home, completes her kitchen tasks and at last she washes clothes. After completing all these tasks, she baths and enters into temple. There she prays to god with all Hindu worship rituals. But I would not say that she worship the god every day, rather I would say she worship her family more than anything. She does the work at home like a monk is praying to God. And you know, shine in the tiles and walls of my home and taste in my home cooked food would tell you everything how dedicatedly and devotionally this monk is praying to her duties from last thirty years.
Many times I teased her that she is not the real Hindu woman. Because in most of the Hindu families, first thing a woman do in morning (after bath) is worship God and what my mother does just opposite of this. But her stand is very straight forward and realistic on this – ‘I can’t skip my duties as a mother or wife; that comes first in my priority. And also I can’t do anything just for the sake of completing a task; I pray to God only when I can immerse myself in the devotion without any worry or hurry.’
My father has a little different phenomenon than my mother. My mother worship the God every day in temple but my father makes his presence there occasionally. As a person, he is very much connected with ground so his prayer also starts with soil. He worship his farms, crops, soil, water, rain, nature and even cows and buffaloes at our form. During my childhood, I saw many times my father prefers to accomplish his tasks as a farmer rather than religious rituals. As per him, we can celebrate Diwali and pray Goddess Laxmi every day until our farms are green and soil is fruitful. When it comes to work, he never thinks about his name, fame, position, attire, attitude or ego. He can run tractor, he can play plough, he can pick pickaxe, he can lift sackful of grain and even he can pile into mud to irrigate crops. Whether it’s the burning hot sun or teeth chattering cold or thundering black clouds, nothing can stop my father to pray his work as a farmer. And you know, the patience, simplicity and boldness in my father’s attitude would tell you everything how dedicatedly he loves his work.
Though my parents are not very regular in performing religious rituals, Saturday is very special day for them. Both of them keep fast on the Saturday. My father could not bear hunger for a long time but he does it on Saturday just for my mother. My mother was regular in fasting on Saturday and my father loves her so he also started accompanying her on particular day. Unlike my father, my mother can survive in hunger for a long time; may be because God has given more strength in woman to bear the pain. On Saturday, my father tries to return early at home in evening and my mother cook the dishes that my father likes. They break the fast together in evening. They dine together in evening, sometimes in the same plate too. Both of them are very regular and dedicated in performing this ritual every Saturday. Though I like my mother’s food every day, Saturday‘s meal taste me more than other day. Perhaps romance is the best spice that makes the food tasty and life healthy.

*****

If someone would ask me what would I want to call myself – a software engineer, tester, cool dude, champ, writer, poet, shayar, monk or thinker? My answer would be nothing from these; I always want people remember me as a farmer. Even though I don’t do anything specifically in my forms and in near future also I may not go there. It’s not work, it’s the attitude that attracts me. A true former always connect with earth without any pride or ego. He is not very ambitious person but never be aimless. His job requires hard work, dedication, smartness plus faith in God, nature and sixth sense. This job not only earns money but also the satisfaction of the fact that we are contributing in feeding the nation. The most gratifying aspect of farming is you get pride of producing something from scratch. There are many other professions also in this world that can give you similar pleasure to create something your own like any kind of business, art, research or medical services. But what’s wrong with them is once the person gets fame, his feet left the ground. An attitude enters into businessman’s mind and an ego in-housed into artist’s heart. Beauty of farming profession resides in the fact that in-spite of success, a farmer remains a farmer, connected with his roots and joined firmly with his roots.

*****

I am not sure whether its related with article but this is something I am remembering this time. Once I was travelling in a train and some eunuchs entered into our compartment. They started clapping, singing, dancing and asking for money to everyone. One of uncle was sleeping at the upper birth; he gave five rupees to them and asked them to stop singing and clapping. On this, one from the eunuch gang revealed very interesting fact – “ paanch rupeiye me juban khamosh karane chale ho. Aadmin aankho se bolta he aur aurat aadato so, koi to he jo juban se bolta he, use kyu chup karate ho sahib.” (Do you want to zip our lips by just five rupees? In this world, man speaks with eyes and woman speaks with her habit; it’s just us who speaks with tongue, why you want to stop this.) I was always think that woman are more expressive than man but that person gave me entire new fact that man speaks with eyes and woman with habits. I don’t know whether it’s true or not but it’s something that made me think that time.

*****

This article will continue till such thoughts will be doing chemical locha in my mind…

जवान


साल दर साल मेरे ख्याल बदलने लगे,
उमर जो बढ़ी तो बाल पकने लगे !
वो मासूमियत तो बचपन कब का अपने साथ ले गया,
अब तो लड़कपन के मुंहासे भी सूरत से झरने लगे !
वो माँ हैं जो कहती हैं कि मैं अब भी बच्चा हूँ,
वरना कुछ लोग तो मुझे अभी से बूढ़ा भी कहने लगे !
ये आईना ही हैं जो अपने दाम का पूरा हक अदा करता हैं,
दाढ़ी मुछे जो हटाई तो गा्ल गुलाबी चमकने लगे !
हम निकले जब भी ऐसे सज-धजकर शहर के बाजारों से,
हसिनाओ की नजर ना पड़ी पर बुजुर्ग जरूर बातें करने लगे !
कुछ समझाइश देने लगे, कुछ खरीद-फ़रॉख्त करने लगे,
गोयाकी हम इश्क़ खरीदना चाहते थे और वो शहनाई बेचने लगे !
यहाँ सब लोग कहते हैं कि तुम जवान हो गए ठाकुर
पर लोगो के ऐसे जोक मुझे हैरान करने लगे !
कुछ हैं जो बहुत पीछे छोड़ आये हैं हम
याद वो आता नहीं पर हम इंतज़ार करने लगे !

Struggle to complete the circle


Nityam is in trouble, but this time due to his girl friend. She gets upset with Nityam on little misunderstanding but  there is no mistake of Nityam in that. While waiting for upset girlfriend, he met with two kids, one is crying due to hunger and other wants toys badly…what happen next…read the complete story

Whenever she gets late, she has genuine problem like she is helping her mother in kitchen, her father is at home, her best friend come to meet,  her pet is not well or she apply face pack… blah-blah. But when I get late, it’s always my carelessness, recklessness and laziness. Same thing happened that day; it was 31st December and we planned to go for pizza party in evening. She told me to pick up her from her friend’s home in evening. But what she didn’t tell me that her friend’s home is at Wardhman Nagar, almost twelve kilometer away from my place. At seven thirty in evening, I called to know her friend’s address and she annoyingly said to me that she waited for me at her friend’s place from an hour, and finally she left by city bus.  Now who argue with her that she should tell me in morning itself that her friend’s home is far away from here, so that I would start early. But not , she didn’t tell me in morning, she called me at six in evening  but unfortunately, I missed to pick the call as I was driving to drop my friend at railway station. And finally, she left her friend’s place and returning by city bus.

There is difference between fool and smart man; fool argues with woman and smart only hear them. But both finishes with same conclusion; foolish said at the end that you can never win with woman in argument and smart already knows it. I am not fool but also not very smart, I called and tried to convey my helplessness to her at some extent but she was not ready to accept anything. And as the adverse effect of my defense speech, she got angry and cursed a lot to me.  At the end of our conversation, I thought she would cancel pizza plan and go to her home directly. But no, she still wanted to go for pizza and told me to wait for her at Dominoz. One thing I could not understand that how can one party and eat pizza if he or she is really very upset. I tried to call her again to say sorry but she didn’t pick up my call later.

Sometime I really don’t understand her, I mean what is the point to get upset at such a small thing. I never mind when she ignore me and prefer her pet dog…yes…it happened 2-3 times with me, we planned to meet but she cancelled at the last moment as she wanted to spend time with her pet dog. I mean how can one ignore human over dog, and that too a man who loves you. I tried to talk her on this but she blamed me that I am insecure; I am trying to impose my order on her; I am felling jealous with pet. Yes, it’s true that I don’t like pets but I never feel jealous with them. All blames of her hurt me, and in the curse of hurt when I counter replied on these blames, it converted into a big mess. So to avoid such conflict this time, rather than playing blame game I sent a sorry SMS to her, and started waiting for her at Dominoz.

She was coming from twelve kilometer away and that too in city bus. It will take almost an hour to reach her at here.  There was no point to go home and come back for me as it will take one hour, so I better think to wait for her at Dominoz only. Weekend evening means prime time at Dominoz and that day it was New Year evening also. I didn’t want keep people waiting by occupying one table for long time without order anything, so I thought to wait her outside restaurant only.  I sit at the base outside the outlet and started watching road side to pass the time. One thing I like most about Nagpur is its roads. Broad roads filled with greenery from both sides, bright street lights, road side shops, moderate traffic, little chilled air and lovely people moving…its really pleasure to watch this. Though there are many holes and pits germinates on the roads now a days, traffic is still in control in spite of a big rush…no usual  jams …no blockages…like a river is flowing  on plain grounds…slow but steady. Rich, poor, middle class, traditional, liberal, bike wala, cycle wala, car wala, Marathi, Bengali, Gujrati,  South Indian, North Indian, East Indians…one can see people from all over India on the roads of Nagpur. From Audi, Mercedes to Maruti wan, from thunder bird to Luna super…Nagpur roads shows the display of all vehicles.  All alone or with friends, in a couple or with full family…each and every one is moving on the roads of Nagpur…not very fast, not so slow…but with moderate speed…enjoying and cherishing each and every moment of the path. I can surely say that unlike Mumbai where people are running in race, Nagpur is still jogging. And you know I like jogging more than race…race make you tired at the end but jogging is always recharging, refreshing and rejuvenating.

As a unique packaging of writer and software tester, I always observe and think something, otherwise who the hell will think so much on terrible things like traffic and roads, and that too when he is so desperately waiting for his upset girlfriend. But that is me, always connected with world of my thoughts and emotions. My world is different but it’s not totally disconnected from real one. A sudden brake of car broke my thoughts world and brings me back at the front of Dominoz. A lady with her around ten year old kid came at Dominoz in that car. Her fair color, slim body and gorgeous look were telling me that she takes good care of her.  Same way her branded jeans, expensive jewelry and long shining car were telling me that she must belongs to the rich family. She looked a bit tired but her kid seemed very happy. May be they came at Dominoz at the wish of kid only.

They were moving towards the entry gates of Dominoz and the boy looked at the footpath; a lady was selling toys there. Suddenly boy stopped stepping and asked mother to take toys for him. His mother didn’t give attention to his request and also didn’t stop. But the boy urged again, and this time mother paid attention to him. She looked at the toys for a moment. It added a hope at other lady that she must purchase few toys from her. But her mother gave an ill look toward the toy shop at footpath, like it was a hell-hole. She rejected boy’s request to buy toys with big NO. But kid already lost his heart for toys. He again insisted mother with shout and cry this time. Face of toy seller lady again shined with optimism but rich mother again rejected the request. Boy seemed very disappointed, he removed his hand from her mother’s hand and started crying loudly now. Toy seller lady again started starring them positively but mother used brain this time. She told boy that they will take toys after dinner. Boy was not looked happy but agreed at this commitment. They went inside the restaurant and toy seller lady was started looking other people to sell the toys.

That was a bad day for toy seller lady. Nobody was stopping at her, no kids and no elders. But she was putting great effort to sell toys. She was singing folk song and urged each and everyone passing from there to purchase toys. Especially for kids, she was trying a lot to attract them by singing with funny facial expressions and hand movements. While looking at her act, I noticed that she was keeping an eye at restaurant door also. After every few minutes, she looked at the Dominoz. May be she was waiting for that kid and his mother to come out.

There were three people waiting there at that time. One is me, who am waiting for huffy girlfriend; other is toy seller lady, who is waiting for that rich lady and her son to come out from restaurant. Third is a little kid who sat aside the toy seller lady and the single audience of the lady who was enjoying her act. (He must be son of the toy seller lady). But now he started feeling hungry; he was telling her mother to go home now. But his mother was not giving attention to him and continuing her act to tease the people moving from there. The boy kept patience for some time but later he started shouting at her mother. He was keep telling her mother that he is dying of hunger and now they should go home and prepare dinner. His mother asked him to keep patience for next five – ten minutes more. Boy accepted her plea unhappily and waited silently for some time, but his mother was not ready to go even after fifteen minutes. He again insisted his mother to go home but this time again mother asked for few more minutes. Boy became red on this and started throwing toys from shop at road. He was shouting that he want something to eat now. His mother collected all thrown toys from road and shouted at him to stop acting like this. But boy was not affected by mother’s thunder as he was still shouting and throwing toys. Toy seller lady handled the kid softly now. She took him in her lap and kissed at the face. She told him that there is a memsahib came in big car at front hotel; she had promised her kid to take toys from their shop. Toy seller lady explained that they will go home once memsahib came and purchase toys from her. She also told the kid that this memsahib looked very rich so she will purchase many toys and it ultimately makes good profit to us.  She committed that after selling toys to memsahib, they will surely go home; and if it will make good profit, she will make halwa for him. Boy was really looking very hungry but he accepted this commitment with tears in eyes. He maintained silent and didn’t disturb after mother’s commitment. Toy seller lady again made her busy in her act to tease people. Now both son and mother were keeping an eye at restaurant, mother was looking after regular interval of few minutes but boy was continuously looking at the restaurant exit door only.

By looking city’s restaurant, it seems that no one cook food at home on Saturday. Everyone is heading to any restaurant like there is a silent policy made by government to eat out at Saturday; And that was New Year evening too, so markets and restaurants celebrate a good rush and hub. That rich lady and her son were taking a lot time in restaurant, and that was too obvious as there were many people in queue in restaurant. Toy seller lady was still entertaining people by her act and her son was still looking at restaurant doors. His eyes were moist and face changed yellow due to hunger. But in-spite of all, he was silently looking at exit doors only. His condition reminds me about the non-violent protesters who usually sits outside the government office at hunger strike.

After waiting for almost forty five minutes, that lady and son came out from the restaurant. Unlike while entering, lady looked fresh now. Good meal with loved ones always erases the tiredness of the day and refreshes the mood. They might recharge now with satisfaction of good food, but there were some hungry eyes that were desperately waiting for them outside. Toy seller lady started singing and acting loudly while looking them to tease the kid. Her son was still silent but one could easily sense the hope and excitement at his face while looking memsahib. Kid of memsahib looked at the toys and it reminded him that his mother made promise to take toys while returning.  He rubbed his mother’s elbow and asked her to go at toys now. Rich lady looked at toys and again made hell look. She told the son that they will buy toys next time. But kid was not agreed and he reminded his mother that she made promise to him. His mother lean toward him and said that these toys are so cheap; she will bring a new video game for him. But this was not accepted to boy and he again reminded the mother that she had made promise before moving inside. Mother made a new promise to bring a new video game this time, but now son was not relying on her. He cried and cursed a lot but mother didn’t hear anything. She started the car and shouted at son to sit inside. Poor boy had no options left except sit inside, but he was cursing the mother till the time car moved from there. Whatever one should do but never make false promises to children; the kid looked more upset on not keeping the promise rather than toys.

One kid returned from there with tears in eyes and complains at lips, and he also left another kid with disappointment at face and hunger in stomach. Toy seller lady stopped her act and started wrapping her toys now. Lady toy seller silently hided her disappointment but her kid lost patience and that is too obvious as he was waiting for them from a long time in the state of hunger strike. He started shouting the mother that ‘why she didn’t hear him and go earlier’, ‘what she gets by keeping him hungry from long time’. He also cursed the lady and his son who came in restaurant – ‘these rich people are heartless…what will their go if they purchase some toys from us’. After shouting loudly for few minutes, suddenly his throat choked for a moment and it made his mouth shut. His words may jam but his eyes had taken charge now; he started weeping by rubbing his both eyes by hands. Boy was crying but lady seller was not looking at him. She was still busy in collecting toys and shut the shop. Her hands were moving in very fast mode and she also looked in hurry. May be she agreed with the son’s complaint and now wanted to go home and prepare food for him as soon as possible.

This world is full of strange facts; the rich boy whose appetite is full, crying for toys and the boy who has entire toy shop, crying because of empty stomach. Human desire always come in circle, you have the key of someone’s happiness and same way someone has the key of your happiness. It’s just the matter to find and shakes hand with him and this is how circle completes.  The whole struggle of one’s life comes in completing this circle only.

I may get philosophical and create theory with circle and hand shake, but in reality food is the basic need of every human being; toys come secondary. Boy was crying by hunger and I don’t know why I felt burden of it. This baggage should go to either mother and son duo that left the restaurant few minutes ago or toy seller lady, but why I was feeling something bad. Some decisions of human heart are always indigestible, and the worse thing is we can’t manipulate heart at such occasions. With the curse of heavy heart, I went to close the toy seller lady’s shop but I was not sure what I will do there.

‘What do you need?’ toy seller lady asked me. I was not sure what to say so I just looked at her toys so that she will assume that I am looking toys, and till the time I could think of something. ‘Do you need toys?’ boy stopped crying suddenly and asked me. During my whole stay there, first time boy was speaking with any person other than his mother. It’s only his mother who was dealing with customer earlier. ‘Yeah, I need a toy’ I think boy had sorted my problem and gave me way by which I could help them. ‘Which type of toy do you want?’ boy got confidence and he was talking freely with me, but his mother again started wrapping her shop; May be toy seller lady lost the hope that someone take toys from her now. ‘Which is your favorite one among them’ my age of playing with toys had gone and now I had no interest in toys, so I better thought to ask the boy only. ‘I like this puppy…it’s so cute’ he handed a white colored puppy toy with curly hairs all around body. Boy was smiling while I was observing the puppy toy. I felt strange how could one talk with so much interest when he is feeling hungry badly; may be hunger converted into habit when stretched for long time. ‘Do you know it sings also…just keep hand on his tail’ boy said with naughty smile. I stroke tail and it started singing ‘Sheela…Sheela ki jawani’. This particular feature of puppy made me smile, its fun to watch puppy singing while someone strokes that tail. Also, I find something adult in the toy made for kids only.

I don’t like dogs and I have many complains about dogs – Dog creates mess in one’s home; people who keep pets in their home, take them in front of other’s house or empty road for releasing their wastage;  dog  lick their owner’s feet like they are slave. One more important reason to hate them is my girlfriend has pet dog, and as I said earlier many times she ignores me due to her pet. I may hate dog but I didn’t want to say NO to the boy at the moment. Also, I didn’t want to go into searching toys as I said my age of playing with toys had gone. So I said yes to this pappy toy and asked for price. ‘Whatever you give’ the boys said immediately. I don’t know why he said this but her mother immediately corrected him ‘its ninety rupees.’ I knew this puppy will not cost more that forty or fifty rupees but I don’t want to bargain with them so I gave hundred rupees note and took the puppy.

‘I don’t have ten rupees change’ toy seller lady searched in her money bag and replied. ‘Take this two balloon…it will balance everything’ boy suggested the solution immediately. I opened the heart for the boy and now boy was taking full advantage of his favor.  I took puppy and two red balloons and moved back to my original position. Toy seller lady wrapped her small shop and went away from there. Throughout the time toy seller lady was collecting toys in big box, boy was looking at me only and that too smiling and happily. Even while they returned boy waved his hand and said good bye to me. The smile at boy’s face filled me with the satisfaction that I made someone happy on the eve of happy New Year.

I was looking at the toy seller lady and son moving from there and someone touched my shoulder from back. I moved back and saw my girlfriend was finally arrived. She looked at me with surprise eyes but I looked silently to her. I was not sure what to say at the moment …should I say sorry to her …or let it be; why it’s always difficult for men to express his emotions. But before I said anything she said cheerfully ‘Oh my God…is it for me.’ For a moment, I didn’t understand anything but soon I realized she was looking at the puppy toy in my hand. ‘Yes…yeah …it’s for you only’, I haven’t decided the puppy’s fate yet so I didn’t hesitate to say yes. ‘You know I like pets and balloons…so you took these for me…right…how caring are you…so romantic…I like this’, My girlfriend got emotional but I didn’t understand what made her emotional…the puppy with me or me with puppy.

Nobody knows when women get red and when they melt. I never thought that she cursed me for such a small understanding that I missed to ask her the pickup point, and also I never imagined not even in thoughts that a puppy toy purchased from road side made her mood happy. Men may taunt a lot to women but there are certainly few good things about women. They may annoy frequently but they also get mollify very easily. People have wrong assumption about them that they like only expensive gifts like diamond necklace. Reality is this girl like gifts or anything that hints them that man is caring about her…it may be men’s praise, time or attention.

We entered inside the restaurant and my girlfriend moved to order counter, and I hold a table and sit there. My girlfriend was etching her head in order menu and it gave me time to think again. I really wanted to thank that boy as he made my New Year eve very special. He also proved my full circle theory of human desire true. I made him happy and he indirectly made me happy by giving me the right toy at right occasion. It’s true that everyone hold the key of someone’s happiness in this world; It’s just matter to identify that someone who has the key of our happiness. And you know, our heart is always pushes us towards that someone but we ignores him and later complains about happiness.

I was in thoughts and my girlfriend came and sat in front of me after placing the order. She started playing with puppy toy, and this is the thing I hate most about her; she gives attention more to pet then me. But at that time I was also in love with that puppy toy, after all it was he who made the mood of my girlfriend and ultimately saved my evening. My girlfriend was playing with puppy toy like he was alive; sometime she was rounding his ears, sometime rubbing hairs…and suddenly her hands reached at tail. She touched the tail and suddenly it started singing – Sheela…Sheela ki jawani…everyone around us was looked and smiled at my girlfriend, and it made her embarrass for a moment. In spite of her discomfort, I was laughing loudly at her like it was my intentional prank.  She looked me with her big round eyes and suddenly I stopped laughing. Now you could think of what she would tell me…why this song…you boys are so cheap…blah…blah. But don’t worry; now I know how to handle her…little care, little praise, little attention…and this is how circle completes…

गुदगुदी


कोई तो गुदगुदी करो जोरो से यारो
कि आज मुझे हँसी नहीं आती

वो मुस्कान जो मरती थी कभी सूरत पर मेरी
आजकल चेहरे पर चाहकर भी नहीं आती

वैसे कोई क्यों करे कोशिश हमें हँसाने की आंखिर
गैरो से ये उम्मीद रखी भी नहीं जाती

वो दूर हो गए, भूल गए मेरे चाहने वाले जब से
उनकी आदत ज़िन्दगी से भूली भी नहीं जाती

हम आज भी बैठे हैं कि कोई आएगा साथ मुस्कराने को
पर इंतज़ार के इस आलम में ठिठोली भी नहीं होती

कोई कहे कैसे जमाये इन बिखरे बालो को ए ठाकुर
कि उदास सूरत अब आईने से भी देखी नहीं जाती

ज़ाहिदा हिना और मलाला युसुफजई


वैसे पाकिस्तान के बारे में जानने की मेरी कुछ खासी दिलचस्पी कभी नहीं थी | मेरा कोई मित्र, रिश्तेदार या जान पहचान वाला उस मुल्क में नहीं हैं , ना ही मेरा परिवार विभाजन के पहले कभी पाकिस्तान में रहता था |मेरी जानकारी इस मुल्क के बारे में उतनी ही हैं, जिंतनी इतिहास की किताबो में पड़ी थी या अखबारों और समाचार चेनलो के माध्यम से हासिल हुई हैं | मेरे मन में कभी पाकिस्तान के लिए मुहब्बत नहीं पनपी | हाँ, नफरत जरूर कभी-कभी भड़क जाती हैं, जब हमारे देश में अराजकता और दशहत फ़ैलाने में पाकिस्तान का नाम आता हैं | मेरे लिए पाकिस्तान भी दुनिया के अन्य देशो की ही तरह एक देश था |

पर पिछले कुछ बरसो से ये आलम कुछ-कुछ बदला सा हैं | ऐसा लगता हैं कि वहाँ कोई अपना हमदर्द रहता हैं, जो वहाँ के हालचाल हमें सुनाता है (या यूँ कहें सुनाती हैं ) | वो अपनी बातो में सियासती सुर्खिया भी सुनाती हैं तो दशहत कि दास्ताँ भी बयाँ करती हैं | कभी बुद्धि जीवियो की तरह समझदारी भरी बाते करती हैं तो कभी आम जनता की आवाज़ बन जाती हैं | पर इन सबमे अच्छी और गौर करने वाली बात ये हैं कि वो सियासत की खबरे सुनाकर भी सियासती दाव-पेंचो से दूर हैं | दशहत के रोंगटे खड़े कर देने वाले किस्से सुनाकर भी अमन का ख्वाब देखती हैं | समझदार लोगो की तरह उपदेश देने की बजाय अपनी बात को बारीकी से उन लोगो की कहानिया सुनाते हुए रखती हैं जो अपने हौसलों से समाज के लिए मिसाल बन गए हैं , और जिनकी कोशिशे अक्सर सियासिती और दशहतगर्दो की खबरों में दबकर रह जाती हैं | औरतो और कमजोर लोगो की बाते बताते हुए तो जैसे मेरे दोस्त का हुनर निखरकर सामने आता हैं | हर घटना – दुर्घटना का जायजा ऐसे लिखा जाता हैं, जैसे कोई शायर अपनी ग़ज़ल पड रहा हो | दर्द भरा मिसरा पड़ने पर सुनने वालो की आँखों से आंसू छलक आते हैं तो पुरानी यादो को समेटने पर दिल में कसक सी उठ जाती हैं | नटखट बाते गुदगुदाती हैं तो भावनाओ में लपेटा शेर दिल को छू जाता हैं | और जब जब वो किसी शख्सियत की कहानी सुनाती हैं या तारीफे करती हैं तो पूरे शरीर में हौसले और साहस की कंपकपी होने लगती हैं | ऐसा लगता हे मानो अभी खड़े हो और सल्ल्युट कर ले, उस शख्सियत को भी और उसके बारे में लिखने वाले को भी |

खैर, अब मैं आपका परिचय उस शख्सियत से कराता हूँ जिनकी तारीफ में मैं इतना सब कहे जा रहा हु | वो पाकिस्तान की मशहूर लेखिका हैं – ज़ाहिदा हिना | और उनसे मैं हर रविवार मुखातिब होता हूँ, उनके लेख पाकिस्तान डायरी में, दैनिक भास्कर समाचार पत्र के जरिये | छोटे से लेख में वो एक पूरा उपन्यास लिख देती हैं | उनके लेख में खबरे भी होती हैं, जानकारी भी, कहानिया भी और किस्से भी, पुरानी यादें भी और आने वाले कल के सपने भी | राजनीती, कला, साहित्य, समाजसेवा और आम जनता से जुड़े किसी शख्सियत की आम से लेकर खास बातो का जिक्र बड़ी ही दिलचस्पी से होता हैं | उनकी बातें दिल और दिमाग पर कमाल का असर डालती हैं | और इसी बहाने हम भी चंद उर्दू लफ्जों और जुमलो से वाकिफ हो जाते हैं | अब देखिये ना मेरा जैसा शख्स, जिसने अपनी पूरी तालीम हिंदी और अंग्रेजी में पाई हो, वो उर्दू लफ्जों का इस्तेमाल अपने लेख में कर रहा हैं तो इसका कुछ श्रेय जाहिदा जी को भी जाता हैं |

वैसे आगे कुछ और कहने से पहले आपको ये बात पूरी ईमानदारी से बता दू कि जाहिदा जी के बारे में लिखने का ख्याल मन में कई दफा पहले भी आया, पर हमेशा वो ख्याल बस रेलगाड़ी कि तरह आकर गुज़र गया | पर पिछले रविवार को जाहिदा जी ने एक ऐसे शख्स से हमें रूबरू करवाया कि जिसकी कहानी सुनकर वाकई आँखों में आँसू आ गए और दिल मजबूर हो गया कुछ लिखने के लिए, जाहिदा जी के बारे में भी और उस दुसरे शख्स के बारे में भी | और ये दूसरी नन्ही शख्सियत हैं – स्वात (पाकिस्तान) की मलाला युसुफजई | मलाला की कहानी सुनिए खुद जाहिदा जी की जुबानी –

“2009 में जब स्वात और दूसरे शुमाली इलाक़ों पर आतंकवादियों का कब्ज़ा हो गया तो इन इलाक़ों में रहने वालों को अपने भरे पूरे घर को छोड़कर और अपनी जान बचाकर वहां से जाना पड़ा था। मलाला उस वक़्त 11 बरस की थी और उसे पढ़ने से इश्क़ था, वो घर से ज़्यादा स्कूल को छोड़ते वक़्त जार-जार रोई थी। उसके दिल पर अपनी पढ़ाई छोड़कर जाने का इतना सदमा था कि कुछ दिनों वह गुमसुम रही। फिर उसने ‘गुल मकई’ के नाम से डायरी लिखनी शुरू की, जिसमें वो लिखती थी कि आतंकवाद ने इलाक़े के सब लोगों की ज़िन्दगी किस तरह जहन्नुम बना दी है। लड़कियों के जब स्कूल बंद कर दिए गए थे, कुछ बमों से उड़ा दिए गए थे और ऐलान कर दिया गया था कि कोई लड़की पढ़ती हुई और स्कूल जाती हुई नज़र न आए। मलाला को बचपन से ही पढ़ने का और अपना मुक़द्दर बनाने का शौक़ था। वो अपने दिल की भड़ास अपनी डायरी में निकालती रही। उसके वालिद ने उसकी टेढ़ी मेढ़ी लिखाई वाली डायरी बीबीसी के नुमाइन्दे को दिखाई। उन्होंने इस डायरी का ज़िक्र बीबीसी की उर्दू और पश्तो सर्विस में किया और यूं गुल मकई की डायरी रातोंरात पूरी दुनिया में मशहूर हो गई। गुल मकई के नाम से लिखी जाने वाली इस डायरी की शोहरत को पर लग गए। सहाफी यह जानना चाहते थे कि वो मिलिटेंट्स जिनके नाम से अच्छे अच्छों से चेहरे पीले पड़ जाते हैं, उनके ख़िलाफ आवाज़ उठाने वाली ये कौन लड़की है और किस तरह वो यह बातें लिख रही है। कुछ लोगों का यह गुमान भी गुÊारा था कि शायद अमन, तालीम और सबके लिए खुशहाली की आरजू में किसी कम उम्र लड़की के नाम से यह कोई और कर रहा है। लेकिन, आहिस्ता-आहिस्ता सब ही जान गए कि गुल मकई दरअसल स्वात की मलाला है। ब्लॉग पर उसकी डायरी के जुमले आए और देखते ही देखते वो एक ऐसे इलाक़े मे अमन और बच्चों की तालीम के हक़ का सिंबल बन गई, जहां हर तरफ दहशतगर्द दनदनाते फिरते थे। वह मुल्क में और मुल्क के बाहर कई अंतरराष्ट्रीय तंÊाीमों की तरफ से बुलाई गई। इसे कई अलग-अलग सम्मान दिए गए और जब स्वात के हालात बेहतर हुए और स्वातियों की अपने घरों को वापसी शुरू हुई तो मलाला भी अपने घरवालों के साथ घर को लौट आई और उसने इलाक़े की लड़कियों को हौसला दिया। स्कूल फिर से आबाद हो गए। बच्चियों की चहकार से इलाक़ा गूंज उठा। उन्होंने मलाला को धमकियां दीं, लेकिन जब वह अपने लक्ष्य से पीछे नहीं हटी तो उसे और उसकी साथी लड़कियों को ख़ून में नहला दिया गया। 

मलाला की स्कूल वैन को रोककर जिस तरह दिन दहाड़े उस पर और उसकी साथी लड़कियों पर गोलियां बरसाईं गईं, इसने सारे पाकिस्तान को हिला कर रख दिया है। हर शख़्स को अंदाजा हो गया है कि वो दूरदराज इलाक़ों में लगी हुई दहशतगर्दी और शिद्दतपसंदी की आग अब हमारे घरों तक आन पहुंची है। मलाला का और उस जैसी लड़कियों का क़ुसूर सिर्फ इतना है कि वो पढ़ना चाहती हैं, डॉक्टर, इंजीनियर, साइंटिस्ट बनना चाहती हैं। “

(पूरा लेख पढ़ने के लिए क्लिक करे  – http://www.bhaskar.com/article/MAG-article-of-zahida-hina-3948809-NOR.html )

नवरात्री के सातवे दिन मेने मलाला के बारे में पड़ा और मुझे यकीं हो गया कि देविया केवल हिंदुस्तान में ही नहीं बसती, बल्कि पाकिस्तान में भी रहती हैं | और वो तो हर उस मुल्क में रहती हैं जहाँ राक्षसों का आतंक हैं | बस फर्क इतना हैं कि ये देविया इंसानी मजबूरियों से घिरी हैं , कमजोर हैं और कुछ कुछ बेबस भी हैं | और राक्षस तो और भी ज्यादा खूंखार और हैवान बन गए हैं | पर इस सब से इन देवियों को कोई फर्क नहीं पड़ता , उनके हौसले कभी इन राक्षसों के सामने नहीं हारेंगे | हारेंगी तो मेरी और आपकी खामोशिया जो बंद कमरों में सिर्फ कलम घिसने और आँसू बहाने के अलावा कुछ नहीं करती | मलाला, मैं भी तुम्हारे लिए कुछ खास नहीं कर सकता, सिर्फ इस लेख के जरिये तुम्हारी कहानी अपने पाठको को सुनाने के और तहे-दिल से तुम्हारे लिए प्रार्थना करने के | तुम शीघ्र पूर्ण स्वस्थ हो जाओ और फिर से जुट जाओ अपने ख्वाब को अंजाम देने में | हमारी दुनिया को तुम्हारे जैसे लोगो की बहूत जरूरत हैं |

जाहिदा जी , आपका तहे-दिल से शुक्रिया, हमें मलाला और मलाला जैसे अनगिनत लोगो की संघर्ष और साहस की कहानिया सुनाने का | वरना हम (और खासकर मैं ) कभी ये जान ही नहीं पाते कि सरहद के उस पार भी इतने पाक और खूबसूरत लोग रहते हैं |

Releasing my first song “एक दिन दोस्तों के बिन !”


It all started one night…no…No…no…that was not night…that was the morning or rather dawning. I was enjoying into the deep depth of dreams and suddenly my alarm started ringing. It was 6 in the morning. I badly wanted that somehow alarm stop ringing automatically as it was out of the reach of my hands. But…no…it was continuously crying…and finally I stood up and stopped the alarm. I really wanted to go back into that dream but till the time that moment went out from my hands.  With heavy heart…I went into wash room…and at that time I recalled that I was watching a video song in the dream. I put some more pressure on mind and tried to recall the lyrics…but unfortunately I didn’t recall anything except one line. I missed the song but good thing is that I remembered that one line completely with tune and lyrics.

I washed the face and started my daily activity but that one line was continuously crooning inside the head. I tried to recognize whether I heard those words or tune earlier but I didn’t find any. Then I thought I should I record it as it was the invention of my dreams. I added few more lines on the same tune and recorded in my laptop. Later, I tried to complete that song by adding some more lines and rhyme but…bad luck…I could not convert those lines into the complete song.

I still not completed that song of my dreams but that incident evoked an idea in mind to compose and sing my own poetry. And guess what…on the investment of Friday morning and complete weekend; I finally came up with the song on one of my poem. I uploaded it at YouTube too with slideshow of few beautiful images. And finally, I am releasing the song at blog today. SO LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, As a lyricist and singer, Ankit R S Solanki is releasing his first song “एक दिन दोस्तों के बिन !”(I can hear the clap sound and cheering gestures of big crowdJ )

And yeah song is dedicated to all my friends ….

Here is the link of song –http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pyOdIEEvWZg&feature=share

well, keep the big words aside, it’s just first attempt of me to tune the poetry into song…so please…please…please…just listen it (at least once) …and put all your emotion, appreciation, suggestion, objection, recognition in comments section.

Eagerly waiting for your reactions and comments (what do you say it’s a WOWor WHAT THE HELL!!!)

-Ankit R S Solanki

“एक दिन दोस्तों के बिन”


कैसे गुजरा वो एक दिन,
एक दिन दोस्तों के बिन !
शुरू हुआ बिना शोर के,
ख़त्म हुआ शरारतो के बिन !
…वो एक दिन दोस्तों के बिन…

याद किया उन यारो को,
यादो को, यारो के बिन !
कुछ गुजरे हुए उजले दिनों की,
बातो को, खुराफातो को, आफतो के बिन !

…कैसे गुजरा वो एक दिन…
…एक दिन दोस्तों के बिन …

 

ऊँचे, नाटे, दुबले, मोटे
हर किस्म के नमूनों को बीन
रंग जमाती थी टोली मेरी
टुएशन हो या टपरी केन्टीन

ना था मैं अलादीन उनका
ना थे वो मेरे जिन्न
फिर क्यों अधूरी हर ख्वाहिश मेरी
उन खुसठ खरगोशो के बिन !

…कैसे गुजरा वो एक दिन…
…एक दिन दोस्तों के बिन …

 

चाल में थी मस्ती उनके
और आँखों में थे दूरबीन
दिल के थे लाख भले वो
पर हरकतों से थे पूरे कमीन

ना था उनमे सलमान कोई
ना ही था कोई उनमे सचिन
फिर क्यू रात अँधेरी मेरी
उन अनजान सितारों के बिन

…कैसे गुजरा वो एक दिन…
…एक दिन दोस्तों के बिन …

 

कोई डूबा कन्या के जाल में
तो कोई था बस किताबो में तल्लीन
हर कोई था कुछ हट के जरा
थोडा सा मीठा तो थोडा नमकीन

ना था कोई शेक्सपीयर उनमे
ना था कोई अलबर्ट आइन्स्टीन
फिर क्यू खाली दुनिया मेरी
उन महा-नालायक महा-पुरुषो के बिन

…कैसे गुजरा वो एक दिन…
…एक दिन दोस्तों के बिन …

एक पाती पिता के नाम


सर्द मौसम में भी मिजाज गरम हैं
जुबाँ हैं उसकी सख्त पर मन नरम हैं

फटकार में भी जिसकी प्यार का मरहम हैं
सूरत हैं संजीदा सी वो पर दिल में रहम हैं

मुसीबत में सबके हिस्से के खाता जखम हैं
खुशियों में खामोश बनकर रखता संयम हैं

प्यार जताने में जैसे उसको आती शरम हैं
जो भी मिला पर ज़िन्दगी में बस उसका करम हैं

जरा पूछो जहाँ में उनसे, जिनके वालिद ख़तम हैं
ये दुनिया बिन बाप के कितनी बेरहम हैं

How easy is to find washroom in IT COMPANY?


Software engineers are always known for their intelligence. They always tend to find the simpler solution of critical problems. This is the other thing that their simple solution contains complex algorithms and programs. As a software engineer, I must agree on the fact that  software engineers use their brain more than other species in the planet. But my point is not to begin the debate by comparing the intelligence level of IT and non-IT professionals. My question is how IT professionals develop such extra-ordinary skills to do critical task in ordinary way? You must be thinking that their engineering degree program is responsible for this. But believe me; they never implement anything they learned in university courses. The real source of such wisdom is there inside the software company itself. An IT company is like a factory that produce (or rather develop) such intelligent brains.

Here is the practical demo of how IT professionals get trained. No…no…no …I am not going to write anything in C++, java or complex binary languages in the demo; It’s in simple English. Also, I am not giving the demo for any rocket science problem. My problem is very simple in the demo ‘How to find washroom in the software company.’

I must say you would be lucky, if you find the sign board for washroom. Because then you will find it easily without any effort. But it will not give any learning to you. To nourish your brain capabilities, you have to ask this question to someone.

If you ask the question to a person at software engineer or senior engineer levels – “Where is the washroom in company?”, then his/her reply would be – “Go straight from here, there will be lift at the end. Go to ground floor by lift and take right; there is the washroom.”  If the person is on *bench*, then he/she would defiantly assist you to reach exactly at washroom; because person on bench in IT company always looks for the way to pass the time in the office. Else, you have to manage it alone. But in any case, you would reach at the destination in 5 to 10 minutes.

But if you ask the way to reach washroom to a person at team lead or design lead level rather than engineer, then his/her reply would be like this – “behind the admin block”. Now if you again ask him to make it clearer, he will give another hint to you – “behind the admin block and beside the server room.” If you ask him again for further more clarification, he would again provide you more answer like these; as the person at team lead or design lead level always have many solution of a problem in their mind. Anyway…Now you deviate from your main goal (washroom) and put your energy to find admin block or server rooms in office premises. When you find your first goal (admin block/server room) then you start for next level search (washroom). Ultimately, when you reach at washroom, it will take 10 to 20 minutes of your time. But it will surely give you important learning about how to approach a problem, how to think about different creative ways to solve a problem, how to break your solution to simple steps…etc…Etc…

Let’s assume, you have asked the way to washroom to project manager instead of team lead, then his/her reply would be – “talk to someone in maintenance department, they are handling this module.” At first thought, you will think that he is avoiding you. But believe me, it’s a part of his job – deviate a query to correct person. So that in future also, you will directly contact to correct department/person for such queries. He will also suggest you to make a document on it, so that next time when other person asks for washroom, it will help him. Now you make your effort to find maintenance department. When you find maintenance department, you will ask someone about washroom there. Now again, if you ask to lead level person there, his reply would be like behind admin block or near server room like these. And if you ask to any entry-level person, he will guide you at the lift. But in any case, it will take almost 15 to 30 minutes to reach at washroom. Again in this case also, there are big learning’s involved. Team lead’s answer make you learn about how to approach a problem; but project manager’s reply make you learn about how to approach the problem correctly so that it always yields to result.

Now think, you have asked this question to a person at very high level like vice-president or CEO. His/her reply would be like this – “Here is the intranet link of our company; you will find details about all departments including maintenance department at this link, like email-address, location and phone number. Talk with someone in maintenance department, they will surely help you. Also, there is floor plan/maps of building in the same link, there also you can find washroom.”  At first thought, you will think that it is a big mess to explore the intranet, and it’s better to go outside and spread your dirt at empty open place. But believe me, if you do this, you will miss the big learning – ‘think bigger.’ If you follow his/her approach, you will explore the link and try to find maintenance department there. And if you are really very good fellow, you will try to understand the floor plan also. Then you contact to maintenance department via email or instant messaging or direct phone call. Again, if you talk with lead there, he will make you find admin block or server room. And if you talk with initial level person, he will lead you to the lift. But in any case, it will take almost 30 to 45 minutes to find washroom. However as I said, there is big learning of think bigger in this approach. Lead and project manager were only targeting just the problem and its solution, but VP/CEO looks it more than just a problem and solution.  They make you learn business, technology, domain, verticals (intranet access and exploration, web-based applications, CAD floor plan, Google maps, understanding company structure, communication mediums etc…Etc…)

So this was RANCHO’s short demo of a very simple problem and its solution by IT professionals at different levels. This is how people at various levels in IT Company think about a problem and solutions. And this is how your skills developed when you work with them.  At end, I would only suggest you to finish all your washroom tasks at home before visiting a software industry, unless you have strong power to hold-off and killing thirst to learn something…

*On bench* – This is the general term used in software industry for the people who don’t have any work in hand. They preserved for future upcoming projects.

रूह का आँचल


भला-पूरा पागल हूँ मैं
गिरा-संभला आँचल हूँ मैं

जो ढलका कभी तो जमीं से जुड़ गया मैं
जो उड़ा कभी तो हवाओं में घुल गया मैं

क्या हुआ जो सर से थोडा सरक गया मैं
पागल हवाओ को पहले परख गया मैं

कोई जख्म तो तेरे जिस्म पर नहीं दे गया मैं
मुहब्बत की बादलो से तो बारिशो में बह गया मैं

तेरी तू सोच मुझे अपने हाल पर छोड़ दे
दामन को मेरे अपने काँधे से तोड़ दे

कर कोशिश अपने पैरो को ज़माने की ज़रा
आसमान तक उड़ने में जमीं को न छोड़ दे

में तो हूँ परिंदा ‘ठाकुर’,उड़ता ही चला जाऊंगा
तू देख कोई काफ़िर तेरा घरोंदा न तोड़ दे

Anger of Bullshit


How do you feel if you see few cows and buffaloes always at the front gate of your house? When you open the door in morning, fresh fragrance of bullshit, urine and other mess of animals spread into your room. You walk carefully at the home entrance by avoiding the chance of putting feet over their bullshit and picket. Mosquitoes get developed around your house and in the evening, when you try to relax at the corridor, your pet mosquitoes attack and suck your blood like mango juice. In the night when you closed the door, regurgitating animals said good night to you, and the whole night you hear the music of cattle’s yawning and belching. Your guests are welcomed by these animals before you say hello to them. Your friends avoid visiting your home by scarring from these animals. By chance, one day you missed to close the doors and these uninvited guests enter and eat your meal.

Well, before you start imagining about stable instead of home, I want to say that it was the environment around our house fifteen years ago. I was ten years old at that time and we had just migrated from small village to Indore city… so called Mini Mumbai of Madhya Pradesh. Our migration was caused due to natural disaster; those were indeed very difficult days for us. Our village was situated at the bank of the Narmada River, 50 km away from the Khandwa district. One day there was Monsoon flood in the Narmada and government authorities alarmed villagers at night around 1 AM. They moved all villagers at the safe place and opened the dam gates. Wild water of Narmada took everything of that village with its flow and when the sun shined in the morning, the village was nowhere on the map. Next day local media and newspaper appreciated government authorities’ work for taking action at the right time. They have saved big cities from flood by the cost of our small village; everyone was happy except few villagers who had lost everything in just one night.

In the next couple of days, everyone forgot about flood and village. Government had done their job of saving our lives and now they didn’t have any responsibility toward us. They saved us from flood and left to die by starving. I moved to Indore with my parents after this incident. My father had started working as a labor in building construction site to feed us. He had some cash that he had taken from home while moving from village that night. We had rented a house in the city with that money and started living there; and this was the same house whose ambience was described by me in couple of paragraphs ago.

That was a big house and total four families lived there under one roof including landlords’. A yard was there at the entrance and four apartments constructed in every corner of the yard. Every apartment had been consisting of just two rooms of the same size and we had to manage dining, bed as well as kitchen in those rooms. Toilet and bathroom were common for all families and it was constructed outside home, near the entrance. Our landlord was a couple in their fifties; and they didn’t have any child. They had many cows and buffaloes and they made their earning by selling milk of those animals. The yard was the home for animals. That was not a big area but the animals were more in numbers. Our landlord tied them randomly in the yard and we had to cross these animals to reach at our apartment doors from the entrance gate.

As I said earlier, the entire area around our apartment was stank with the smell of bullshit. These animals kept the yard dirty entire day either with their meal (grass, animal food, water etc.) or wastage (bullshit, urine). Our landlord cleaned the yard once in a day but that was just swept by a hard stick brush. They  never cleaned it with water, surf powder or any hygienic liquid, that’s why it smelled a lot. Mosquitoes were also developed due to such unhygienic condition. Our apartment door was hardly twenty steps away from the main gate but one had to be very careful while crossing those twenty steps; sometime buffaloes/cows blocked your way and sometime their shit shattered you. Bullshits are usually round in size with soft layers, almost like a birthday cake in greenish color. It was the favorite play of kids in that house; whenever someone puts feet over the bullshit, they clapped and started singing happy birthday song.

So this was the condition of our home entrance; now let me tell you what happened when you enter into the lane of the city where this house situated. That lane was known as Goo-Gali (potty-lane) in that locality. Most of the houses on that lane were rented by people, who operated small business there like Joss stick manufacturing, papad (wafers) making, flour mill and spices grinding. People worked in those small firms came in the morning 10 AM, worked in the day and returned their home at night around 8 PM. Except few houses like ours, all were rented by these firms. Due to less number of families in the area, lane was mostly quiet and isolate, especially in the night and early morning. People of other lanes took benefit of this fact and dropped all their wastage and dirt in our lane. Due to this, a big detritus of wastage had deposited in our lane. In the early morning, some people of the surrounding area especially slum children came there around the detritus and dropped potty too. Even labors worked in those firms were also used to urinate in the open gutters of the lane. Many times our landlord had complained about it at Municipal Corporation but they didn’t care about it. Once in three months a wastage pick-up lorry of the corporation came in the lane and dragged all wastage but from the next day, people again started depositing their dirt there. So this was our lane, stank with the dirt smell mixed with the acrid of human shit and urine.

Initially I found our house better than the lane. At least bullshit smell is better to bear than the wastage odor. Home always smelled same to me, but lane always gave me new fragrance as per the kind of dirt people made there. When our nose inhales the same smell continuously for a long time, it always makes us feel that same smell spread everywhere  in the world even if it doesn’t exist there. Soon bullshit smell smacked into my head. I started feeling bullshit smell everywhere, school, roads, park, train, bus even in flowers and food items. I found my nose is there to make me feel only one sniff. I hate the smell but that smell was not ridding me away. My father had selected that house just because it was cheapest in the area, and now I could understand why it was worthless. I mean who wants to live in such bullshit house except helpless people in hopeless condition like us.

That house might be bullshit but the landlord was very gentle and good person. We all kids used to call them uncle-ji and aunty-ji. Uncle-ji was very simple and innocent man while aunty-ji was religious and extremely energetic and hard working lady. They really cared each and everyone living in the house including cows and buffaloes. Take care of sick children, giving money to people for paying pending bills, physical and monetary help during occasions like marriage in the area, provide their scooter for taking ration…there were n number of occasions when these kind couple stand in good stead for the people in that house. And not even people in the house, this couple equally helped other people in the locality too. Due to such quality, people in locality liked and respect them.

As I said, uncle-ji was very simple and innocent, and he liked kids a lot. Many times he played with the kids like a child. Aunty-ji didn’t like such habit of uncle-ji; she always objected uncle-ji to behave maturely. Also, she didn’t express such affection with kids; instead she used to tick-off the kids a lot. Reason behind it was that kids of that house (including uncle-ji) were really very naughty, they used to nag her a lot. Kids used to do just opposite what aunty-ji said; they played exactly at the place where she denied them to play; they played cricket at the same time when aunty-ji was milking the cow and tried their best to send the ball inside milk bucket. Aunty-ji loved cows and buffalos rather than kids, even she treated them as her own child. Kids (again including uncle-ji) used to play and bug these animals a lot especially in front of aunty-ji to make her hyper. Aunty-ji got annoyed when kids disturbed her but she lost her temper completely when someone touched the animals. She spewed fire words and  ran behind the kids with a stick in hand when these animals were troubled specially while grazing or resting.

There was one more wiggle other than troubling animals that made aunty-ji red hot.  It was not the prank of kids but the obligations of habits.  Aunty-ji behaved weirdly if her morning schedule was delayed or got broken. It was her regular routine to consign milk to lord Shiva. She used to wake up early in the morning around six. After taking bath, she wore a special saffron sari and dragged some milk. Then, She decorated worship plate with some milk in special bronze KALASH (urn) and other Hindu worship stuff, and went to the famous Shiva temple of our colony. There she rendered milk on ShivLing (the lord SHIVA idol) with chanting mantra for almost an hour. It was her regular routine for every morning; If somehow this routine broke, aunty-ji behaved weirdly the whole day. The morning must be started from the Shiva worship for her otherwise everyone had to bear her cynical attitude. I still remembered once she asked one of the family to leave the house just because all the members of the family used to wake up early in the morning and kept bathroom busy. Aunty had to wait many times for the bathroom due to them and it made her late in Shiva worship. Finally it led to the elimination of that family from the house. Many times uncle-ji said this as a joke that aunty does TANDAV dance if she didn’t see the Shiva in morning.

Though aunty was little cynic and hard by mouth, she was a very soft lady by heart. She helped everyone in pain or trouble with open hands. Whether it was monetary matters or materialistic help or require some physical effort, her doors and hands were always open for people in trouble. She used to tick-off a lot the kids gang but when someone got down by fever, she treated him/her like a mother. Due to such noble work, she made a good image in the society and no one complained about her cynical attitude.

She may cared about kids but she never expressed her love to them. She never played with kids, not hugged or kissed them, not even looked at them with love. But this was not the case with me; I was the only kid in the house whose appearance made aunty smile. It might be because I was not involved in any trick and tease of the naughty kids gang. As compared to other kids of my age, I behaved very silent and quiet in that house and aunty liked it. That was not my natural character but situations sealed me into mum mold. Free bird of the Narmada landscape was captured in the cage full of bullshit, and this bullshit seized all his childhood innocence and impishness. I didn’t like anything in that home, lane or city, all I wanted to return village at any cost. But the fact was that the village had completely sunk into Narmada and now this bullshit was the only life around me.

Aunty-ji not only smiled at me but she showed her special attention at me. She often asked my mother about my wellness, breakfast, meal and studies. Whenever I returned from school, she stroked my head and hairs with love. She hugged and kissed too sometimes me especially when I stepped from the bathroom to our apartment  and she appeared in the yard. But I didn’t like her love for me. In my eyes, she was a cynic middle aged lady who lost her mind because of her sterility. And under the depression, she argued and shouted at everyone whole day. Her voice was loud and a bit unpleasant, and I hate it. Second reason to dislike her, she didn’t clean the yard properly every day. Although she swept yard daily with special brush of hard sticks, she never washed it with water and any hygienic liquid. It made the whole environment of the house blossomed with bullshit smell. Third, she loved animals and I hate them. If it was under my control, I dragged all animals out from the house. But as per her, these animals were like god and she got meal of two times just because of the animals, so whether it was milk or bullshit, everything was welcomed by her like the blessings of God. Fourth and most important reason to hate her, whenever she hugged or kissed me, I felt a strong bullshit odor from her. Hugging by her was like crossed by  stream of bullshit to me and kissed by her was like putting mouth in tons of bullshit to me. While kissing, she usually mounted some spit over my face and wetness of cheek kept the fragrance of her bullshit breath alive for a few more moments to me. Many times I avoided by going close to her just because of all these but she was never affected by it. Somehow she grabbed and showered her bullshit love on me every day.

Days were going very tough for me in that house. It was not just bullshit smell that killing me but the whole life had converted into big bullshit battle for me. We were struggling for basic needs every day. In village, we can get drinking water anytime from river Narmada, but here my mother had to stand in long queue in early morning to get water from single drinking water tape in our lane. Battle for water might not be that tough in spite of long queue as there was enough water for everyone, but battle for ration was very ruthless. City corporation used to provide monthly ration at cheaper rate to below poverty line people like us. They distributed the stock at fixed date of month. But stock was never be enough to fulfill need of all people under this category. Corporation authority process queue and provide ration till stock lasts and once the stock ended, remaining people had to return with empty hand. Usually only one fourth person got the ration and these lucky people were the whom who stood first in the queue. So there was always rash in people to stood first in queue and this rash led to few ugly fights between people. Verbal abuse and tussle was very common thing there. My mother made some special effort to avoid such scuffle;  she stood in queue for whole night so that she would be ahead in queue in morning. She might came in one fourth lucky people and got ration most of the time, but that ration was never be enough to fulfill our needs till month end. We always had shortage of money and the ration came in those few bucks would never be enough to fulfill our needs till month end. My mother used ration very mindfully; she always counted for available ration before cooking anything so that it runs till month end. Even sometimes she dropped to eat in days just to save ration.

In the fight with bullshit, water,  food and life, education was the only easy going game for me. Fortunately, Government school of our state didn’t take any fee for primary education so I was attending school but with the lack of books and pencils. So this was how life went on for me; I wanted to shout, I wanted to outburst but somehow I was living silently managing with situations.

I still remembered the last few days of July month. It was a rainy week and work at construction site has stopped due to rain. My father had no work and it discontinued his daily earning. As it was the end of the month, there was nothing in ration except dalia. My mother was cooking dalia in both meals of the day. In the afternoon, she cooked salty dalia,  and in the night, she made it sweet by adding sugar. Quantity of sugar was also fixed; 2 spoons in my plate, 1 spoon sugar to father and half spoon(or rather negligible) sugar in mother’s plate. It was me who can add more sugar after this fixed amount, my parents didn’t as we had not enough sugar in monthly ration and we had to manage till month end.
Couple of days passed and I got irritated by eating dalia everyday. First bullshit made me inhale same smell everywhere and now dalia made me eat same taste everyday. Things that I hated were not leaving me. The irritation was clearly reflecting in my behavior. I became dumb for outside world, not spoke much with anybody. My mother was the only one over which I can express my outburst so I morose over her many times. Sometime I shouted her as my shirt was not in almirah, sometime I became hot as she was taking too much time in cooking food and sometime I yelled just because it was raining. My behavior was getting worse day by day and I gradually becoming moody, cynic and stubborn.

It was 26 July date in calendar and seventh day of our dalia eating day. I clearly denied my mother to eat dalia that day. I want anything except dalia in dinner that day. My mother coaxed me that month was ending in just few days; she will surely cook other dishes next month. But I was stick on not eating dalia that day. She then cajoled me that hopefully construction work will start tomorrow so father would get money and we will eat jalebi next day. We both very well knew that if rain had stopped then also it would take two to three days to start construction site work again but still she was telling me to hope something that was not possible. I shouted at her argument but she remained silent .

One hour passed but we both didn’t eat dalia. Me, because I want anything other than dalia and my mother, because I didn’t eat anything yet. My mother had finished other work and came to me again, but this time she became hard and started shouting at me – “hey Nityam, finish your dalia and go to sleep, we don’t have other than dalia in ration so better eat it.” Her hard attitude arose my anger more and I moved dalia plate from my side and said very clearly –“I would die but not eat dalia today.” My answer did’t melt my mother, instead her voice got louder – “than go to hell…I really don’t care…I am doing so much for you and this family…and you don’t have any emotion with it…then better do whatever you want…and yes, don’t talk with me any more now.” My mother got away from there after saying this and I lay down on the bed by putting arms over head.

One more hour passed, I was trying to sleep but it was getting hard for me to sleep with empty stomach. My mother again came to me but this time she tried to make me agree on eating by emotional weapon. She put her hands over my head and said – “ I know…how difficult last few months were for us…and you are very little to handle with this…but I knew my boy is very tough…he fight with these circumstances like a warrior…he will surely do what his mother said and eat dalia like every day.” Her voice was very soft and emotional but bullshit and dalia made me rough that day. “Don’t talk with me…I just don’t want to eat Dalia” I roar on her. My raw attitude brought tears in my mother’s eyes and she started bagging me – “please …don’t increase our troubles… eat this dalia son and let us survive.” With this, she hugged me and started crying.

Her tears made me wet a bit and once I thought that I should eat dalia now. But when I looked at dalia plate, my ego again raised head and balked me for any compromise. I got harsh – “I will not eat dalia today…this is last and final.” My mother put her bed at my side and said – “Okay…than I will also not eat anything today” she lied down and started sleeping with this statement. That night we both didn’t eat and not even sleep. I spent whole night in weeping, cursing god for our troubles and just changing sides. It was the morning when my eyes were able to sleep but soon my mother’s voice called it off.

“Get-up son, you have to go school” my mother called. I raised with heavy heart and washed my face. My mother gave me towel, tooth-brush and soap, and told me to get fresh and take a bath. With heavy steps, I started heading towards the bathroom. I was at the mid of yard when aunty-ji crossed me, she was returning after bath. She smiled and said good morning to me but I didn’t look her and also not replied anything to her.

It was not the winter day but atmosphere was so cold due to rain. First time when I touched the water, I thought not to bath that day but in next second, my mood changed and finally somehow I took bath. While returning from bathroom, I again saw auntiji in yard, this time she was milking the cow.

I was very upset with the drama of last night and all those thoughts were only thing running in my head. I was not sure how to act now. I was still very angry but not sure who was responsible for this and whom should I upset; whether it was my parents who were not able to feed me or it was me who was not considering the things and overreacting, or it was god who had put us under these circumstances. I was captive completely in such thoughts and didn’t notice that there was bullshit spread at many places in area. One step put over the bullshit and I slipped and fall down on ground completely. Auntiji didn’t sweep the yard yet hence entire area was full of dirt that time. There was no physical hurt in the body but my face, chest and legs were completely decorated by mud and bullshit.

Auntiji was milking cow just near me and she was the first who saw me in that condition. My bullshit face and body made her laugh so loudly. We mostly saw her shouting and screaming so it was the historic moment for anyone that auntiji was laughing. But this moment didn’t tickle me, rather it made me more angry. It was her animals that creating such problem for everyone. Bullshit smell and mosquitoes were everywhere in the house just because she didn’t keep the yard clean and hygienic. It was the problem for everyone but she just didn’t care. All my bullshit sentiments about her refreshed in the mind while watching her laughing at me.

Aunti-ji looked like the cause of all our troubles to me at the moment and I imagined the scene of Lord Krishna’s life when Pootna hag laughed at little Krishna. But the only difference was that I was not strong like Krishna to kill her with empty hands. Believe me, if there was a gun in my hand, I really killed her. I was giving her angry look but soon my mother called not to worry. She told me to take bath again and with heavy heart, I again headed to bathroom. It was drizzling rain outside and temperature dipped at very low, I was thinking before bathing single time but now situation made me wet twice a day and that too back to back. Starving by stomach, humiliating by bullshit and beating by water in such cold day…My situation was really helpless, I was not sure what to do…should I feel angry with myself or should I sympathize with myself.

Anyways I cleaned myself and bathed again. Second time, when I was returning from bathroom, I saw auntiji was in saffron attire, preparing Pooja-thal (worship plate) for the Shiva worship. She was pouring milk into special Kalash (urn-bronze Jug) for lord Shiva’s bath. When she saw me, she again started smiling at me. I was hot from inside and her smile again raised my temperature. I looked at her with blood into eyes but she looked and smiled at me  like I am a joker.

In this look and smile game, I forgot about bullshit and put the foot over same area again. It made me slip at the same place and same way. All it happened just like action replay of previous one but laugh of audience doubled…yes, queen of buffaloes, lady demon, my lovely auntiji,  laughed in double tone over little Kanha this time. All my innocence blasted off  in that moment and all I wanted was to take revenge. I saw villain of my story in aunty-ji’s laughing face, who was responsible for all my troubles. I didn’t think for anything , picked some bullshit by both hands and threw over aunty-ji. “Go to hell buffalo queen…it was your animals that creating such bullshit mess here…can’t you keep it clean…take this bullshit with you…wear it…eat it…drink it…take it” with this outburst, I was throwing bullshit over her again and again. It was four times I had thrown bullshit over her till my mother came from inside and shouted at me.

I was breathing heavily when my mother captured me. She hold my hands so that I could not throw bullshit any more. It stopped me from throwing bullshit, but fire inside me was not snuffed yet. I was still looking at aunti-ji with red eyes but aunti-ji’s smile had flew away. The saffron sari of auntiji turned green due to bullshit and her face also turned gray due to dirt. She was smashed and looked at me with wide opened eyes and serious face. Her lovely kid turned into monster and she was still not able to believe it. she was standing there silent, shocked and shattered.

After Bullshit-Holi, My mother took stand and stormed over me. She was very well aware about bizarre behavior of aunti-ji, so she was fearing that aunti-ji would throw us out from the house. After fire wording at me, she started bagging her – “Aunti-ji…please don’t mind it…he is just small kid…I bag sorry to you from his side..I will persuade him…He will not do anything like this in future.”  My mother was bagging her but there were no signs of regret at my face. Aunti-ji was still standing silent there. Though she didn’t speak any word yet, her face was saying how hot she was at this matter. We both were looking each other like enemies. My mother still bagging her – “Hey…auntiji please forgive him…he is hungry from last night …he got irritated by eating Dalia everyday and yesterday didn’t eat anything…he is just starving that’s why his temper got out of control…otherwise he would never do anything like this.” My mother’s heart was pulsating with fear about aunti-ji’s reaction, but aunti-ji just said to take me inside that time and moved away from there.

My mother made me clean and brought back into home carefully. She closed the door and started weeping – “why are you enhancing our troubles…now aunti-ji surely throw us out…why can’t you just understand.”  With this, she hugged me and her lament made me regret too. Now, I had started feeling that I put my parents in big trouble.  I was cursing myself  but there was nothing in my hand now except remorse.

My mother and I were weeping and suddenly our door was knocked. We both looked each other with doubts and fear. My mother opened the door and saw aunti-ji was there. Her face was cleaned but there was still bullshit stains over her saffron sari. She handed over a glass of milk to my mother and said – “Why didn’t you tell me that Nityam doesn’t want to eat dalia, I would gave you some milk. Now go and give it to little master otherwise he will paint every wall of this house by bullshit.” She smiled and moved away from there but I was still not believing on my eyes that someone treat me like this even if I throw bullshit and mud over her.
I was shocked but felt good. My mother boiled the milk and gave me to drink. With every sip of milk, monster inside me was moving out and all it left inside was regret and remorse. After finishing milk, I brought the dalia plate from kitchen and asked my mother that lets finish this too.

All our power of thinking good and bad works only till there is something in appetite; an empty stomach is really very dangerous thing, it transforms an innocent soul into monster. Aunti-ji’s attitude mild my bullshit anger into regret of rescue and Dalia converted regret into blabbering tears too. I put my head on the lap of my mother and started weeping, my mother stroked my head by her soft palms and soon I went into world of dreams while weeping.
After that day, aunti-ji started providing us a glass of milk everyday. Till the time we live there, she made special effort to keep the area of yard clean that came in our way. Uncle-ji once told us that it happened first time in his lifetime that day, aunti-ji didn’t go Shiva temple but still she was very happy and behaving normally…in fact she gave me milk that she was going to render over lord Shiva.

After few years, my father learn the construction skills and started working independently. We bought a house in other area of  the city and left the bullshit house (yes…this is the name given to house by me). I still remembered the day when we were leaving, there were tears in the eyes of Aunti-ji. Time had flew and memories of Auntiji were deposited under my memory crust, but today also, whenever bullshit anger tries to capture my wisdom, auntiji’s face revolved around my eyes and it urged me to stop thinking destructively. After all this world is not like aunti-ji that i throw bullshit over it and it gives me milk…

I jumped from the tree


My 14 year old nephew wrote his first poem. I just re-phrased his words, added few lines and presenting in my blog.

(Poem expresses the emotions of a boy who is just stepping into teenage. He has a dream and he tried to achieve that dream without thinking anything; But all it became a big blunder. What was the stand of his parent, friends, teacher and so called girlfriend on this…let poem reveal it…)

I jumped from the tree to reach the sky
But fell down and began to cry
My mother came and asked why
But my father said nice try.

My buddies laughed on me as much they can
One called me Newton, other said the Superman
I don’t know where then goes the pain
Life looks with friends an easy game

My girlfriend came to meet and I felt shy
But she wished that someday I can fly
My hero is not the one whose courage is dry
But the one who dares and try.

My classmates wondered how I forget about gravity
But my teacher said it’s my courage, not the cavity
When you work to achieve the dreams
You have to swim against the streams.

It’s not just poem, it’s my pray
Love should be served always in heart’s tray
Parents and buddies should be with me all the way
Because life is nothing without them, just a horrible stay.

 

फितरत…


क्यों किसी को कुछ बताते नहीं
रोते हैं पर आँसू दिखाते नहीं

कितने किस्से दिल को हैं कहना
लफ्ज़ जुबा तक पर आते नहीं

जबान अपनी, आवाज़ अपनी
अपने ही मन की बात सुनाती नहीं

कैसे करे किसी और का भरोसा हम
जब आहट खुद की ही सुन पाते नहीं

हैं जो मन के भीतर, एक तुफां हैं
उमड़ता हे अकेले में पर भीड़ में खो जाता हे कही

इसे शरमाना कहे या शराफत का नाम दे ..
कि शेर होकर भी शौक शिकार के दिखाते नहीं…

ये कैसी फितरत में ढाला हैं हमको खुदा ने
जाम हे हाथो में पर लबो से लगा पाते नहीं…

कोई कहे कैसे जिए इस कशमकश में अब
डरते हे बहकने से और पिये बिना रह पाते नहीं…

A Night of ‘92


Curfew has been lifted from the city and everyone was returning to his daily routine, but these mother-son duos were still walking like threatened. How can they forget the date 6th December 1992; the day when the season of terror had started. Mother woke up early in the morning on that day; prepare her son ready and were moving to drop him at school. Her son had first paper of half yearly examination on that day, but fate had some different plans of exam for them. On the way to school, duo was interrupted by regional riots; two groups of different community were attacking each other, both groups were loaded with arms like stick, stones, knives and even few folks had guns and swords too. Mob had burned few houses in the locality that fired people in the home alive, they were also killing innocent people moving from there, and now this duo was trapped among them.

It was the fortune of duo that police arrived at exact time, when one of man in mob was about to attack them. The duo took the shelter of an under construction building in the corner, and hide behind the boundary wall of compound. Mother glued her son with chest and covered him completely by her sari. Son also encircled his arms tightly around mother and closed eyes like he had burned if he looks at the sight for few more minutes.

Roars of shouting, screaming, crying and abusing people continuously feared their feet that anything can be happened to them too. Their hearts started beating at its full speed to fill the air of fear inside; and each time they inhale in that violent environment, their body trembled with dread. Fear and tear made their eyes moist and face tensed with anxiety and untoward.  Their words chocked in the throat by shock, but inner soul was continuously calling God for grace. Initially, Mother was peeped couple of times from the boundary wall to look a chance for escaping from there, but her eyes found monsters thirsty for blood everywhere around; at the last, she pull a metallic sheet from nearby and put it over them, so that no one was able to see them between boundary wall and metallic sheet. Police was trying to control the situation, but bloody wild mob forget the words like humanity and started throwing stones and adobe to Police cops. They even hurt few police cop by edged weapon and burner their jeeps. This all made a hard tangle between police and mob; and on the way to control the situation, police crossed all their level one by one from threating, hurting, caning, air – fire and even tear gas. Police also hurt few people by shooting over their leg to stop them.

After around an hour, police controlled the situation completely, but still the duo was reluctant to move away from boundary wall. Finally few police cops soothed and made them believe that it’s safe outside, then only mother became ready to step away from there. Police cops gave some water to their dread throat and dropped them at home too. After that incident, curfew was imposed in the entire city and it continued for next fifteen days. Mother and son never faced the incident like that day again, but horrified sight of that accident threatened them even in thought; especially five year boy Nityam felt feared in going out to any public place after so many days of that incident.

It was the year 1987, Nityam born in a former family at small village Palna in the India. During initial years, this child knew only about his parents and few other villagers around him. For Nityam, the whole world resides in this small village only. Palna was an ideal village; its population was just 300 but these three hundred folks live happily with maintaining brotherhood and peace. Life style of villagers was also simple; they usually wake-up early in the morning at six, do work for entire day at farms and sleep early in the night. Till nine in evening, almost every one slept and village got shut down. It was only few regional festivals and some occasions like marriage, when there was some movement and shine can be seen in the lanes of village, otherwise place was mostly calm and quite. Nityam was growing in the environment full of fresh air, green forms and jungles; also he was surrounded by simple, innocent and hardworking people of village. He never saw riots, fight even such abusing between people. Life looked very easy and beautiful to him till he crossed 5 years of age.

It was the year 1992, when his parents thought about his education. There was no school available in the village. So they rented a house in city and started living there. Nityam got admission in a good school of the city. He mostly lives with his mother there, because his father went village early morning for farming work and returned late in the evening. Many times his father was not managed to return home in evening due to work load, and this make Nityam and his mother to live without father.

Children may get emotionally connected with mother more, but they always feel secure when their father is around.  The security can be physical or financial, but children generally behave boldly when find father around them. Father is an ordinary species in the earth, but children always find superman within him. Nityam was no more different from normal children; he felt very free when his father is around. But adverse effect of it, he felt a bit scared inside when his father was not with them in the city full of unknowns. Especially in night, he always sensed a fear of unknown untoward when his father was not managed to return. Well…Situations teach people to live with their fears, and somehow Nityam had also learnt to live with this fact.

Initially Nityam didn’t like city’s atmosphere. He spent his earlier life in the open and fresh environment of the village so he felt like suffocation in the polluted air, congested traffic, crowdy places and narrow lanes of the city. He noticed children of his age, playing marble and cricket in the narrow lane. They were using abusive language while playing. He also saw two and four wheeler vehicles running everywhere on the roads. Noise of the traffic and black smoke ejected by vehicles were unbearable for this little newcomer in the city.

One important thing he learnt from the city is the religion and caste. He knew his caste and religion now. But he didn’t think about caste and religion system much at that time. For him, his mother was all his god, religion and caste in this city of strangers. He never thought about religion and caste system in such early age, if he didn’t saw such riots on that particular day.

Just one day ago that incident, his father went to village and told them that he will not be able to return in evening as he had to irrigate farms in the night. Though Nityam learnt to sleep without father, a thought of being alone popped out in the mind and scared him just for a little while, before he actually slept down. That day also he felt same fear of being alone in the night, however became quite normal in the morning. But on the way to school, he finally saw his fear came true in the face of communal riots in the city.

Policeman dropped them at home, but fear of what they saw just few minutes ago, threatened these two alone bodies even inside a closed house, as neither mother nor Nityam knew what exactly going on outside; why people turned to monsters and attacking each other. Police man instructed them to stay inside home until further instructions come out and it closed outside doors for them. Duo was such scared that they did not talk with anyone for two days. After two days, mother contacted to neighbour from side window and asked what’s going on in the city. Neighbour told them about Babri mosque demolition and violence spread out due to it. He also instructed the same that don’t go outside home, it would be dangerous; Police cops and military men were patrolling and they beat any civilian see outside the home.

khat - wooden bed, generally used in Indian villages

khat - wooden bed, generally used in Indian villages

Nityam and her mother spent next fifteen days like this, closed in home all alone. There was no source of vegetables and milk supply in curfew so duo spent days by just eating dal-roti*. But unfortunately, dal stock has finished in just four days, and on the top of it LPG cylinder was also got emptied. Mother got worried what to do in such situation, no sufficient ration, no LPG, how to feed her son now.

Wish of life shows the doors of survivals. Mother used brain and broke-down an old khat *(khat – wooden bed, generally used in Indian villages), that they took from village. She cut khat in some small wooden pieces and used those wooden pieces to get fire and cook food. There was nothing in monthly ration except few kg of wheat flour. Mother backed batis* at the wooden fire and they spent days by just eating batis. (Bati – a dish prepared by backing big round pieces of wet wheat flour at burning coal; generally served with dal in western India)  By learning from experience, mother was using wheat flour and wooden block very intelligently so that it provides survival for longer period. She backed six bati every day; both ate two bati each in morning and kept rest of batis for evening. In night, mother gave both remaining batis to son and she slept just drinking lots of water.

Bati – a dish prepared by backing big round pieces of wet wheat flour at burning coal; generally served with dal in western India

State of all alone and workless gives birth to unknown unwanted thoughts and fears. Sometime Nityam became very apprehensive about his father; whether he is safe or not. Though mother was also very much worried about her husband, but she gave hope to son that his father would be safe as he is at village and riots happened only in the city. There are several ways to cajole the heart but you can’t stop it thinking, specially the time when you are alone and there is no task to do. This hope may cool down them for a moment, but memories of riots sight, worries of father and concerns of any upcoming untoward were pricking their empty days by several sharp edged needles from various angles.

One day duo was about to sleep and mother was switching off the light.

“Keep it on mom, darkness horrified me” Nityam told to mother.

“Don’t worry son. Everything will be fine in just few days” Nityam said that he was horrified by darkness but mother got that he was afraid due to riots and troubles, not darkness.

“Is father okay? Was that bloody mob not reached to him?” Nityam asked with moist eyes and tensed face.

“Yeah…he would be fine; there are no riots in our village…these days will be passed soon and we will meet him surely” Mother tried to calm him but she herself not very confident about it.

This hope was not helping anyone…not Nityam, nor mother…the only difference was…Nityam was expressing his fear to mother…but mother was trying to hide her worry from him.

Nityam touched her mother’s cheek with his wet palms and said by looking into her eyes – “I felt very scared these days… whether that mob will catch us again someday… whether father got trapped in such riots …whether we will be able to eat other than bati someday…”

When knots of troubled heart are shared with loved ones, a moment comes when words got chocked and tears outburst to say the entire remaining story. Nityam lost his words after bati and started crying loudly. Mother wiped out his palms from her chick, took into hands and encircled around her neck. This gesture gave some more courage Nityam to express; he hugged mother tightly and started blubbering like he was dying to hug and cry from so many years.

“…We will return to village after these riots and will never come again…” Nityam told mother while hugging tightly and crying loudly.

“I don’t want to go school, don’t want to learn anything here…please tell this thing directly to papa…I want to go back at village…” poor Nityam was not able to speak clearly due to cry, but he was continuously repeating the same sentence.

Mother was also horrified like Nityam but she was pretending normal to keep her son free from worries but this outburst of Nityam broke all the barriers of pretend for both. Mother and son both started crying loudly that moment; and they were giving sympathy to each other like one survival cleansing the tears of other survival.

“We will go to nani’s village…there they have a good school…I will take admission there…but we will not live here anymore…” Every word of Nityam flooded into his mother’s eyes now…Nityam’s tears stream slowed down a bit, but now mother started crying like she was waiting for this moment from years.

“Yeah, sure son!” mother was repeating on every statement of Nityam while continuously stroking his head and back by her hands. She glued Nityam again at her chest and hided him in her sari like the day at riot sight.  Nityam and his mother both closed eyes while crying, and prayed god to bring a day that ends their survival period. No one knows who was giving consolation to whom that day…son was getting relief from his worries by crying in the arms of mother…or alone mother in troubled city was getting courage by hugging her six year old son…the only fact was that both felt lighter after so many days.

That night was really the last day of their struggle as next day curfew has been lifted from the city for day time. In just one hour after this good news, Nityam saw his father came from village. He hugged tightly his father and the moment gave a chance for deep breadth to mother too. Nityam told father to bring them in village. His father instructed mother to pack the bag. Within an hour, they put the lock at door and moved towards the village.

Incidents happen but life never stopped for anything. In just two-three days, city came back to normal routine and father informed family to be ready for going to city. Nityam was reluctant to move from village, but his father explained him that it was just an accident and it had gone now. We should be tough to live with these things. Accidents can be happened anywhere…at village too…may not be riots…but may be any kind of natural tragedy…who knows what will happen next…all these are part of life and we should be tough enough to live with this…we can’t just sit idle at home due to these…we have to do our Karma…your karma is study…my karma is farming…we all came on the earth for purpose. Innocent heart of just six year old boy was listening about karma…but all his mind reminding him was about those troubled days in riots. With heavy heart, he moved towards the city again.

Father ensured that he would get back to home in the night for few days. One week went on and Nityam and her mother were moving back to their normal routine; they were getting busy in daily work and picture of riots sight was started fading from their eyes. One day father told that he will not be able to return in evening as he had to irrigate plants in night; it made scared for a moment to mother and son both, but some day they have to face this. Father gave important instruction to both of them before leaving and also ensured them that nothing will happen now.

That night mother prepared dinner early…Nityam and her mother had the dinner and slept little early from their usual timings. Nityam was feeling the fear of being alone after a long time, but his father’s words of being tough was encouraging him to face the fear.  Soon they got into deep sleep but after couple of hours, voice of something interrupted mother. At first time, she ignored it; she thought it may be due to some accident or something at road. But soon she heard the same voice sound and this time she was sure that it is the sound of blast somewhere; she started shivering as cracking sound raised red alarm of riots sight to her mind. She woke up and sit at the bed in tensed mood. Within span of fifteen minutes, she heard sound of many blasts continuously one after another, and soon noise of people also joined blast sounds. She got that its trouble in the city again and this time people were throwing bomb rather than burning houses.

Her body was started trembling and mind horrified again that any bomb can be dropped over their home too. Every blast was generating screaming of hundreds of people; and she didn’t know which blast accompanied to her family’s mourn…whatever she had to do…do it quickly.  She again found herself alone in the situation but ready to do anything for her son’s survival.

When body is shocked, senses work in shocking manner; mother thought that if someone throw bomb from front, it will destroy their hall at front and if someone throw bomb from backside, it will destroy bedroom at the last. Their house was built like railway coach, one after another; first a big hall followed by kitchen and a bedroom at last. Mother found kitchen at middle as safest place because if bomb was thrown from either side front or back, probability of it to harm kitchen at middle are less as compare to bedroom and hall. Poor villager woman never saw war scene where bombs were thrown by aircrafts otherwise she would not find kitchen also safe place. Anyway, she spread mattress at kitchen floor, brought Nityam there and lay down over it.

Sound of bomb blast still terrified them and soon mother thought that kitchen would also not keep them safe for a long time. Feared mind again started thinking about new weapon for survival. She found a palang-peti* in kitchen this time. (Palang-peti is a big metalling box that serves two purposes – box and bed; we can put things inside the box and it also served as bed after closing box door and putting mattress over it.)Mother opened palang-peti and drag out all things from inside. She brought Nityam inside that box and sleep over him so that any bomb dropped to her first. She also put some blankets and mattress over her, and closed the door of palang-peti. She interrupted the door of palang-peti to close completely by a stick so that air can be passed inside. Terrified mother covered Nityam with three layers of protection from bomb; first hard metallic door of palang-peti, second soft silky blankets and at last her own body. A small capacity bomb is also sufficient to destroy all three layers, but this is all a poor mother can do for survival of her child at that moment; she again glued her son with chest just like the way she did few days ago at riot site, closed her eyes and prayed god to save their life that day.

Sound of bomb blast and screaming of people was continuous for one hour. Nityam and mother were inside the palang-peti, surviving with the city under threats of bomb-blasts. No bomb was thrown over their house yet, but sound of each blast stirred them with thrill and terror. It was the chilling cold day of December month, temperature almost dipped to four or five degree in night, but this mother-son was feeling the hotness of a thrilling dread. They both became completely wet by sweat, but still reluctant to move even an inch from their position at palang-peti. Feared mother made thousands of prayer to god for survival of them, offered votive of fast,  money, hard promises, even her own life for leaving his son’s life that bloody night. Innocent mind of Nityam was hoping for a miracle that god has given flying power to his fathers and he flew and took them away from city.

Soon frequency of bomb blast got down and in next one hour, bomb blasts had stopped completely; it may gave relief to heart a bit but still eyes were not ready to take rest, as repose was completely washed off by fear. At around five in the morning they felt like sleepy a bit, but soon morning rays called it off to mother. She had not heard bomb blast sound from last five hours; she thought might be police had arrived everywhere and controlled the situation just like that day. Peaceful environment of morning gave confidence to her and she moved out from palang-peti. She opened the front window of home a little and peeped to take a look at outside environment. Few milkmen and news paperboys were moving at road, accomplishing their morning duty. Soon she noticed few senior citizens returning from morning walk and children going school. She hadn’t found outside environment as she supposed to be; it surprized her and also derived some doubt on her. Were the bomb blasts real…or just the imagination of a terrified woman who had seen such violent sight just few days ago; was she mentally sick due to those riots days, and this fear manic gave birth to the thoughts of bomb-blast site, as her husband was not with her in night after a long time.

She opened the door and went outside to know the truth. She stopped a school going girl and asked “Why are you going to school…did you not hear the sound of bomb blast in city”?

“Are you mad…no…there is no bomb blast” Girl replied with a lot of amazement.

“No…there were bomb blasts in the city… at midnight…” Mother again repeated her notion.

“oh…that in midnight…hahaha…that was not bomb blast…it was the last day of year…so people were celebrating the new year…at midnight twelve o’clock…year has changed…people were welcomed new year with fire-crackers and parties.” Little girl couldn’t stop laughing on the stupidity of villager woman while saying this.

“Are you sure…people bought such pyrotechnics every year” Mother had no prior knowledge of such celebration so she wanted to be sure before making any false assumption.

“Yeah…its tradition in the city…” Girl was smiling with surprize as she never meet to a person who doesn’t know about New Year celebration before.

“oh!…so it’s safe everywhere…” Mother again confirmed with girl.

“Yes its safe…my school bus has arrived…I am leaving…bye and happy New Year aunty” Girl replied and wished mother for New Year.

Mother didn’t know what to reply at such wishes. She came back in the home, asked Nityam to move away and started preparing him for the school. She was feeling a morning such peaceful first time in life; she laughed at herself and also at the tradition of city – “How strange are the traditions of city…day starts with the first ray of sun…people celebrated and welcomed for the day… but slept before the first ray of day arrived?” Mother thought while preparing breakfast for Nityam.

रंग लहू के


रंग लहू के कितने रंगों में बदल जाते हैं
बने तो भारत, ना बने तो पाकिस्तान में बँट जाते हैं !!

मोहब्बत वो बचपन की दिल कुछ यु भूल जाते हैं
रात के सपने सारे सुबह आँखों से धुल जाते हैं !!

संग-संग सगे-सगे ना संग रह पाते हैं
रंग-रंग वो प्यार के जंग में जुट जाते हैं !!

कैसा होता हैं जब दौ भाई भिड़ जाते हैं
हाथो में तलवार लिए माँ का दामन चीर जाते हैं !!

कर्ज दूध का दरिन्दे कुछ यु चुकाते हैं
लहू बहाकर सीने से खूनी खीर पकाते हैं !!

काया को माँ की कुटिल काँटों से कुरेदते हैं
कटा कुछ तो बंगलादेश, ना कटा तो कश्मीर लटक जाते हैं !!

नफरत की इस नहर में नौजवान नंगे नहाते हैं
बैर ये बुजुर्गो का अब भी पाठशाला में पढ़ाते हैं !!

किताबे इतिहास की इंसानियत को इलज़ाम देती हैं
तेरे रक्त के रंगों से मेरी स्याही बदनाम होती हैं !!

कब तक कोई किस्सा कारगिल और कसाब पर लिखे हम
अच्छा हैं कोई कविता पेशाब पर लिखे हम !!

खोज खुदा की


कोई ख़ुशी दिल में खलबली मचा दे,
कोई गम दिल को लहूलुहान कर दे,
या खुदा, कर पैदा कुछ तो हालत ऐसे
जो ताउम्र मुझे तेरा तलबगार कर दे !

तेरी तरह धीरज नहीं धर सकता मैं
मन हे मासूम, कुछ कर नहीं सकता मैं
तू ही हैं जो मुझसे ज्यादा जान सकता हे मुझे
बना ऐसा मुक्क़द्दर जो मुझे तेरा मुरीद कर दे !

दौलत किसी गरीब को बक्श दे
सेहत किसी बीमार को बेच दे
गल नहीं मुझे गर गम परोस दे
बस हो एक हरकत जो तेरे होने की सोच दे !

किस्सों में सुना था तू बड़ा महान हैं
माँ को भी तुझ पर बहुत गुमान हैं
दिल को तेरी शख्सियत पर फिर क्यों सवाल हैं
कौन हैं ये खुदा और उसका क्या योगदान हैं !

तालीम तेरे होने की तरफदारी नहीं करती
कायनात तेरे अकेले की कारीगरी नहीं लगती
जाने क्या देखती हैं ये दुनिया इन पत्थरो-मजारों में
क्या हैं इनमे सूरत कोई जो मुझे दिखाई नहीं देती !

मुझ पर नहीं तो खुद पर रहम कर
तेरे अस्तित्व पर हैं सवाल, कुछ तो शरम कर
देख कभी तू इन बूत-ताबूत से निकलकर
बहा हैं खून बेहिसाब तेरे नामो-निशान पर !

उम्मीद तू देता हैं तो नफरत कौन सिखाता हैं
दोस्त तू बनाता हैं तो दुश्मनी कौन कराता हैं
तू दवा भी देता हैं और दर्द भी बढाता हैं
कितनी दोगली हैं हस्ती तेरी, आग लगाकर पानी भी बरसाता हैं !

सोचता हूँ दुनिया से तेरा नाम ही मिटा दू
ना अल्लाह को कोई जाने, ना राम का नाम हो
न जिये कोई तेरे करम से, ना तेरे नाम पे खाक हो
इंसानियत के हक में बस ये एक गुनाह माफ़ हो !

तेरे जोग में मैं जोगी बन जाऊंगा
या आँखे मूंदकर भोगी बन जाऊंगा
अज्ञान के अंधेरो की कालिख बन जाऊंगा
या नयी इबारत तेरे नाम की लिख जाऊंगा !

शहर


इस शहर की गलियों में गफलत हैं बहुत,
आवाज़े हे कम पर शोर हे बहुत

हवाए भी रखती हे यहाँ आग का असर
खुशबूये हैं कम जिनमे पर धुआं हे बहुत

तनहा मायूस लगती हर सूरत संजीदा यहाँ
ख्वाहिशे घुटी हैं जिसमे, हसरते सहमी हैं बहुत

डर गुस्से का हर किस्सा होता निगाहों से बयाँ यहाँ
कुछ आँखे रोई हैं बहुत, कुछ गुर्रायी हैं बहुत

मतलबपरस्त हो चूका इमां हर इन्सां का
खुदाई दिखती कम पर खुदगर्जी बिकती हे बहुत

कितनी बेरहम हे दुआये खुदा के दलालों की भी
हमदर्दी हैं गुम जिसमे पर नफरते महकती हैं बहुत

कुछ कारण हैं कि लिख रहे हे ऐसी गजल गाली खाने को
वरना महफ़िल में तारीफे हमने भी बटोरी हैं बहुत

ये किस शहर में आ गए ‘ठाकुर’ तुम अपनी तकदीर तराशने को
पत्थरो कि हैं हुकूमत हर जगह यहाँ और फूलो कि ज़िल्लत हैं बहुत

Road side Romeo


हुए जब भी हम पर हसीनो के हमले,
याद नहीं रहा कब गिरे, कब सँभले !

फूल गुलाब से ये देखे या छूले,
सूखे न मुरझाकर इन्हें धुप से बचा ले!

सर्द हवाये न इनकी रंगत चुरा ले,
की आहो से इन्हें जरा हम फिक्रमंद कर दे !

ये मासूमियत ये अदा इनकी, बन न जाये कही अकड़ कल की
की नज़रो से हम इन अठखेलियो में, हमदर्दी-ओ-हया भर दे !

ज़ालिम ज़माना हे ज़रा जोर ज़बरदस्ती वाला,
की बाँहों में भरकर इन्हें हम महफूज़ कर दे !

शोहदों सा नहीं मिजाज़ मेरा, यहाँ गिरे, वहाँ फिसले
आशिक हु हुस्न-ए-जवाहरातो का, तुम्हे तराशे, तुम्हे सहेजे !

कोई बेवफा न कभी इनके नाजुक दिल को तोड़े
की सब हसीनो से हम अकेले ही वफ़ा निभा ले !!

मत पूछ मेरे हौसलों की हदों के बारे में


मत पूछ मेरे हौसलों की हदों के बारे में,
ये वो पंछी हैं, जो जानते ही नहीं सरहदों के बारे में !
उड़ते रहते हैं ये निरंतर ख्वाहिशो के आसमानों में,
और बाज नहीं आते कभी तकदीर को आजमाने से !

रूठ जाती हैं तकदीरे कभी, बदल जाता हे वक़्त भी
दगा देते हैं इंसा अपने, दिक्क़ते देती उम्र भी
बस ये हौसले ही हैं जो कभी रुठते नहीं
हारती हैं ज़िंदगियाँ पर ये कभी हारते नहीं

मत पूछ क्या हासिल हैं इन हौसलों की वजह से
ये वो पंछी हैं, टिका हैं आसमा जिनकी वजह से
ढूंड लाते हैं ये रोजाना ज़िन्दगी का दाना
और भूलकर सारे गम गाते हैं मस्ती का तराना

आया था इक दिन जब हार गए थे ये हौसले
कट गए थे पर इनके, टूट गए थे घौसले
लग रहा था अब न उड़ सकेगी ये कोपले,
पर अगले दिन फिर निकल पड़े ये तिनको को धुंडने
एक-एक तिनका बीनकर, लगे फिर आशियाना जोड़ने

मत पूछ उस दिन इन हौसलों की हालत के बारे में
कुछ सोच ही नहीं रहे थे ये उस दिन राहत के बारे में
उड़ रहे थे उस दिन ये उम्मीद के आकाश में
आसुओं को पौछ्कर आशियाने की तलाश में

ये हौसले भी किसी हकीम से कम नहीं होते हैं,
हर तकलीफ को ताक़त बना देते हैं,
और दर्द से भी दवा चुरा लेते हैं !
एक ख्वाहिश टूटे तो हज़ार ख्वाब सजा लेते हैं,
और छोटी-छोटी कोशिश से मुक़द्दर बना देते हैं !

मत पूछ क्या हाल होगा इन हौसलों के न होने से
मर जाता हैं पंछी कोई पिंजरों में क़ैद होने से
मोह नहीं रहता उसे न खाने में न जीने में
और मर जाती हैं तमन्ना उड़ने की फडफड़ाकर सीने में

मत पूछ मेरे हौसलों की हदों के बारे में,
ये वो पंछी हैं, जो जानते ही नहीं सरहदों के बारे में !
उड़ते रहते हैं ये निरंतर ख्वाहिशो के आसमानों में,
और बाज नहीं आते कभी तकदीर को आजमाने से !

मीडिया


ट्विटर पर ट्रेन्ड फॉलो होता हैं
ट्रूथ नही !
फेसबुक मे फेस पर लाइक मिलते हैं
फैक्टस पर नही !
समाचार चैनलो पर बहस होती हैं
बात नही !
अखबारो मे मसाला परोसा जाता हैं
मसला नही !
इस सबके बावजूद आप इन्हें मीडिया कहते हैं
तो आपको ये आइडिया नही !
कि मीडिया वो हैं जो आईना बने
नमूना नही !

मौत


छा गया अंधेरा बुझ गयी ज्योत
वक़्त की उंगलिया थामे लो आ गयी मौत

जुए का खेल था ये ज़िन्दगी का कारवा
जीते तो जीते चले गए और हारे तो लो आ गयी मौत

बड़ी चालाकी से चल रहे थे हम तो हर एक चाल यारा
पर चाल चली जब उसने तो लो आ गयी मौत

दाँव पर लगी थी साँसे हाशिये पर थे होश
पर होठो से ये कहते ना बनी कि लो आ गयी मौत

बचपन से बुढ़ापा तो हैं एक गोल चौराहा
एक उमर का चक्कर था और आ गयी मौत

किराये की काया को अपना मत समझ लेना “ठाकुर”
रूह को आज़ाद करने एक दिन तो आएगी मौत

अभिनय की चाय


बात ज्यादा पुरानी नहीं हैं, यही कोई जनवरी का महीना था |  मैं चाय बना रहा था और टीवी पर बालीवुड के अभिनेताओ की तुलना करते हुए कोई कार्यक्रम चल रहा था | वो अभिनेताओ को १, २, ३ ऐसे क्रम में बाँट रहे थे | खैर मुझे तो किसी भी कला में नाम कमा रहे लोगो में किसी को पहले नंबर पर रखना, किसी को दुसरे नंबर पर रखना कभी भी पसंद नहीं हैं, क्योकि मैं समझता हूँ कि कला एक साधना हैं कोई प्रतियोगिता नहीं | पर टीवी पर चल रही उस बहस ने मुझे एक कमाल का तुलनात्मक अध्ययन करने को प्रेरित किया | मैंने चाय बनाते हुए अभी के समय में लोकप्रिय ५ अभिनेताओ के अभिनय पर बारीकी से सोचा और ये रोचक निष्कर्ष निकाला –

  • सलमान खान – आप उन्हें पसंद करे या ना करे, पर निस्संदेह वो अभी के समय के सबसे बड़े स्टार हैं | एक अभिनेता के तौर पर लोकप्रिय बनाने वाला हर रसायन उनके व्यक्तित्व में मौजूद हैं | उनका अभिनय चाय की खुशबु के सामान हैं | आप चाहे जितना भी पानी डाले, दूध मिलाये, शक्कर और पत्ती से उकाले पर अंत में पीने वाले का मन तो उस चाय की खुशबु से ही भर जाना हैं | और लोग उस खुशबू के इतने दीवाने हैं कि वो सोचते ही नहीं कि चाय का रंग कैसा हैं, स्वाद कैसा हैं | उन्हें तो बस खुशबू का आनंद लेना हैं और उसी में खो जाना हैं |
  • शाहरुख़ खान – शाहरुख़ खान का अभिनय चाय को आँच पर रखकर दी जाने वाली उकाली जैसा हैं | एक अभिनेता के तौर पर उनकी मौजूदगी इस बात का प्रमाण हैं कि फिल्म रूपी चाय बहुत उकलने वाली हैं | और इतना उकलने के बाद जब दर्शक इस चाय को पीता हैं तो उसे एकदम गहरे रंग की कड़क और झन्नाटेदार चाय का अहसास होता हैं | असल में शाहरुख़ के अभिनय में तीव्रता इतनी अधिक हैं कि फिल्म की दूसरी बाते बहुत पीछे छुट जाती हैं और दर्शक महसूस करते हैं तो उनके द्वारा निभाया गया किरदार | फिर चाहे वो डर/बाज़ीगर का सरफिरा आशिक हो या डीडीएलजे/कुछ कुछ होता हैं का बिंदास प्रेमी, कोच कबीर खान हो या मेजर राम…हर किरदार इतना उकाली लिया हुआ प्रतीत होता हैं कि देखने वाले को बस शाहरुख़ और शाहरुख़ ही याद रहते हैं |
  • आमिर खान – आमिर खान का अभिनय तौल-मौल कर बनायीं गयी उस चाय के जैसा हैं जिसमे सब कुछ बराबर हैं | चाय, शक्कर, दूध, पानी, अदरक और आँच – सब कुछ बराबर मात्रा में मिलाने के बाद जब इस चाय को कोई पीता हैं तो उसे संपूर्ण चाय का अहसास होता हैं | चाय का रंग, कड़कपन, मिठास, गर्माहट सब कुछ एकदम परफेक्ट लगता हैं | एक अभिनेता के तौर पर आमिर अपने आप को तो बहुत पीछे छोड़ देते हैं और कहानी में पूरी तरह रमे दिखाई देते हैं | इसीलिए तो फिल्म देखने के बाद लोगो को याद रहती हैं तो एक कहानी और उससे जुड़ा हर एक किरदार, ना कि आमिर खान | आप देख लीजिये कभी भी लगान, थ्री इडीयट, जो जीता वही सिकंदर या पीके, ये अपने आप में इतनी सम्पूर्णता वाली फिल्मे हैं कि आपको इनसे जुड़े हर एक किरदार, हर एक छोटी सी छोटी बातो से प्यार हो जाता हैं |
  • अक्षय कुमार – अक्षय कुमार का अभिनय पत्ती जैसा हैं | दूध चाहे जितना भी पड़े, पानी कितना भी मिले, शकर हो या ना हो और आँच बराबर लगे या ना लगे, रंग तो पत्ती को ही जमाना हैं | और अगर दूध, पानी और आँच भी बराबर मिल जाये तो इस चाय के क्या कहने | एक अभिनेता के तौर पर अक्षय कुमार में सब कुछ हैं, चालाकी भी तो मासूमियत भी, पौरुषता हैं तो भावुकता भी, अल्हड़ता हैं तो परिपक्वता भी | हर एक किरदार में अक्षय कुमार अपना एक अलग रंग दिखाते हैं और अपनी ऊर्जावान व्यक्तित्व से प्रभावित करते हैं | इसीलिए तो कुछ बेसिर-पैर की फिल्मो में भी अक्षय कुमार गज़ब का रंग जमाते हैं | और जब उन्हें अच्छी पटकथा और निर्देशन मिले तो वो इतना कमाल कर जाते हैं कि हर कोई यही बोलता हैं कि ये किरदार अगर अक्षय कुमार के अलावा के अलावा किसी और ने किया होता तो शायद वो मजा नहीं आता |
  • अजय देवगन – साधारण से दिखने वाले इस अभिनेता का अभिनय अदरक जैसा हैं, जिसे गली-मोहल्ले के कोने में मिट्टी से उखाड़ लिया हो और कूटकर चाय में उकाल दिया हो | और जब इस चाय को कोई पीता हैं तो चाय कि चुस्कियो के साथ गले में वो गज़ब का अहसास होता हैं कि हर कोई उस अदरक का कायल हो जाता हैं | अजय देवगन की खलिश भरी आवाज़ और समंदर से गहरी आँखे गज़ब का प्रभाव उत्पन्न करती हैं | इसीलिए तो ऐश्वर्या राय और सलमान खान की मौजूदगी से सजी रंग-रंगीली फिल्म “हम दिल दे चुके सनम” देखकर निकले दर्शको को कुछ याद नहीं रहता सिवाय अजय देवगन के भाव-प्रणय अभिनय के | गंगाज़ल देखकर निकले दर्शक अपने अन्दर भ्रष्टाचार और अराजकता के प्रति गज़ब का गुस्सा महसूस करते हैं और हाल ही में दृश्यम देखने के बाद तो अजय देवगन हमको भी रटवा कर ही मानते हैं – २ अक्तूबर को हम पणजी गये थे नित्यानंद जी के प्रवचन सुनने |

खैर मेरी चाय तो इस ख्याल के साथ ही पक चुकी थी | आप भी आनंद लीजियेगा इस चाय का और बताइयेगा कि कैसी लगी ये पेशकश |

 

लघु कथा – आजकल तो बस फौग चल रहा हैं !


यू तो मध्य भारत का इंदौर शहर शुष्क स्थानों की गिनती में आता हैं, पर नवम्बर से जनवरी के बीच यहाँ भी अच्छी खासी ठण्ड का असर देखने को मिलता हैं | दिसम्बर के आखिरी दिनों में तो ये बिलकुल शिमला बन जाता हैं | गजब का कोहरा और सर्दी के आगोश में हर कोई ठिठुर जाता हैं | उस दिन भी कुछ ऐसा ही माहौल था, मुझे कुछ काम से सुबह ७ बजे ही शहर से बाहर जाना था | सुबह इतनी जल्दी उठकर नहाना और मोपेड चलाकर बस स्टेशन पहुचना ही बहुत दुष्कर कार्य था, पर मुझे तो अपनी सरकारी नौकरी का कर्तव्य पूर्ण करना ही था | सुबह उठने और नहाने में जरुर थोड़ी मुश्किल आई, पर बस में बैठकर बाहर का दृष्य देखा तो लगा कि प्रकृति के इस रूप को देखने के लिए इतना करना तो बनता हैं | पुरे साल में केवल २ या ४ दिन ही होते हैं जब शहर में इतना घना कोहरा होता हैं | बस में खिड़की वाली सीट पर बैठकर तो जैसे मन की मुराद पूरी हो गयी | बस में दूसरी सवारी बैठ रही थी कि मेरे पास वाली सीट पर मेरे सहकर्मी मिश्रा जी आकर बैठ गए | वो भी बेचारे मेरी ही तरह इतनी सर्दी में अपनी नौकरी करने जा रहे थे | बस ने शहर की सीमा को पार किया और खिड़की के बाहर का नजारा तो और भी मनोरम होने लगा | हरे भरे पेड़-पौधों और खेतो पर जैसे किसी ने सफ़ेद चादर औढ़ा दी हो | जाने क्यों नींद के चक्कर में प्रकृति के इस रूप को देखने से मैं इतने दिनों तक वंचित रहा |

मैं खिड़की से प्रकृति के इन व्यंजनों का रसस्वादन करने में व्यस्त था की मिश्रा जी की आवाज़ ने मुझे ये अनुभुति कराई कि मैं बस में बैठा हु | मिश्राजी ने जेब से नया स्मार्ट फ़ोन निकाला और मुझे दिखाने लगे | “ये देखिये जी, नया स्मार्ट फ़ोन १३ मेगा-पिक्सेल कैमरे के साथ…पुराना ८ मेगापिक्सेल था अब १३ ले लिया ” | वैसे तो आजकल किसी के पास बढ़िया क्वालिटी का स्मार्ट फ़ोन होना कोई अचरज की बात नहीं हैं पर फिर भी मैं मिश्राजी का मन रखने के लिए उनका फ़ोन देखकर बधाई देने लगा | “ये देखिये व्हाटसैप फेसबुक सब चलता हैं इसमें” | वो मुझे फ़ोन की कार्य प्रणाली के बारे में बताने लगे | मैंने ध्यान से उन्हें सुना और फिर से प्रकृति की और रुख करने के लिए मिश्राजी से कहा – देखिये ना कितनी सर्दी हैं…फोग भी कितना हैं बाहर” | मैं इतना बोलकर फिर से बाहर का नज़ारा देखने ही लगा था कि मिश्राजी तपाक से बोले – “अरे इस पर भी एक बढ़िया जोक आया था व्हाटसेप पर – पत्रकारों ने मोदी जी से पूछा कि काले धन लाने की बात पर क्या चल रहा हैं ? तो मोदीजी बोले – आजकल तो बस फोग चल रहा हैं|” ये जोक ना जाने कितने रूपों में अलग ग्रुप से कई बार मेरे फ़ोन पर आ चुका था पर फिर भी मिश्राजी का मन रखने के लिए मैं मुस्कुरा दिया | इतने अच्छे और असली फोग वाले मौसम को देखने की बजाय फोग पर ऐसे उल-जलूल जोक सुनना मुझे कतई अच्छा विचार नहीं लगा | और मैं फिर से बाहर देखने लगा | पर मिश्राजी इतने में नहीं मानने वाले थे – “ये देखिये इस बन्दर का कितना अच्छा विडियो शेयर किया हैं व्हात्सप्प पर” इतना बोलकर वो मुझे बन्दर का विडियो दिखाने लगे जिसमे बन्दर पेड़ पर कूदा-फांदी कर रहा था | संयोग की बात हैं कि बस किसी गाँव से निकल रही थी और खिड़की से हमें भी कुछ बन्दर दिखाई दिए | मैंने मिश्राजी का ध्यान बाहर के बंदरो की तरफ करने की कोशिश की तो कहने लगे कि ये बन्दर वाला विडियो भारत का नहीं बल्कि अमेरिका का हैं | अब मुझे पता नहीं कि अमेरिका में भी बन्दर पाये जाते हैं कि नहीं, पर मिश्राजी को बन्दर के उस रिकार्डेड विडियो के स्थान पर लाइव प्रसारण देखना कतई मंजूर नहीं था | वो तो विडियो देखकर ऐसे ठहाके लगा रहे थे कि जैसे बंदरो की ऐसी हरकत पहली बार देखी हो | “ये देखिये मेरा एक दोस्त हैं – जहाँ जाता हैं वहाँ की मस्त फोटो फसबुक पर डालता हैं..अभी पिछले हफ्ते ही देहरादून होकर आया, वहाँ के प्राकृतिक द्रश्य के कितने अच्छे फोटो डाले हैं फेसबुक पर…देखिये जरा|” निस्संदेह देहरादून एक बहुत खुबसूरत शहर हैं और फोटो भी बहुत अच्छे थे, पर प्रकृति को 5 इंच में देखने की तुलना में आँखों की पलकों से क्षितिज तक देखना कही अधिक मनोहारी लगता हैं | और तो और, आज तो अपने क्षेत्र में ऐसा मौसम हैं कि वो किसी हिल स्टेशन से कम नहीं लग रहा हैं | पर मिश्राजी को ये कतई मंजूर नहीं था, वो तो मुझे अपने दोस्त की फेसबुक प्रोफाइल पर शेयर किये हुए पुरे 46 फोटो दिखाकर ही माने |

मिश्राजी मेरे संकोच का पूरा फायदा उठा रहे थे | एक-एक करके व्हात्सप्प-फेसबुक पर आये हुए चुटकुले, सन्देश, फोटो और विडियो मुझे दिखाने लगे | खुद ही दिखाते और खुद ही सबसे ज्यादा खुश होते | मुझे भी उनका साथ देने के लिए फालतू में ही मुस्कुराना पड़ रहा था | पुरे 2 घंटे के रस्ते में फ़ोन से नज़रे उठाकर एक बार भी इतने अच्छे मौसम को निहारना उन्हें अच्छा नहीं लगा | इतना अच्छा फोग, बन्दर और प्राकृतिक द्रश्य – सब कुछ तो बस की खिड़की से नज़र आ रहा था पर मिश्राजी को तो फोग वाले चुटकुले, बन्दर वाले विडियो और प्राकृतिक दृश्य वाली इमेजेस दिखाने की धुन लग गयी थी | खैर पुरे 24 चुटकुले, 61 चित्र, 18 सन्देश और 5 विडियो दिखाने के बाद जब हम अपने गंतव्य पर पहुचे तो दिल मिश्राजी से बस एक ही बात बोलना चाह रहा था – “मिश्राजी व्हात्सप्प-फेसबुक हमारे फ़ोन में भी चलता हैं और दोस्त हमारे भी हैं…इसलिए अब आगे से किसी को अपना फोन दिखाकर ऐसा बोर मत किया करो” |

Percentage of Truth


I know I am not good in analysis of facts because facts and feel may or may not reach at same conclusion. Here whatever be analysis I am showing is based on feel. Again, I am writing on very tough topic – truth. But I want to burn my hands in this analysis so that readers can understand my feel with these facts shown in graph. Truth is always universal but its interpretation is different by different souls and I firmly believe what our soul says is always 100% true. But listening our soul is always a difficult task because we are surrounded with the senses like ears and eyes which alter the truth. If not alter then also, these senses hides some percentage of truth and highlight remaining percentage of truth. Master of all these senses is our mind; he manipulates, mirrored, expand or narrowed the truth. These all senses act like some experts  debating on news channels for exploration for truth. But Truth is always there inside the human being, different people named it differently – soul, dharma, aatma, rooh, sixth sense etc etc.

So here is my analysis. Do let me know in comments section  if you think otherwise –

percentage of truth 2

ये दुनिया बहुत रंगीली हैं !


ये आसमान बहुत ऊचा हैं
ये धरती भी बहुत बड़ी हैं
तू आकर तो देख जरा
ये दुनिया बहुत रंगीली हैं !

सूंड वाला हाथी हैं
धारी वाली गिलहरी हैं !
फूल हैं खुशबु वाले
और हरी भरी तरकारी हैं !
आम हैं रसीला पर
खट्टी मीठी इमली हैं !
कौआ हैं काला कितना पर
रंगबिरंगी तितली हैं !
तू आकर तो देख जरा
कितनी खुबसूरत अपनी ये प्रकृति हैं !

आकाश में उड़ता कैसे कोई पंछी हैं
पानी में कैसे तैरती मछली हैं !
कैसे बादलो से बुँदे निकली हैं
और कैसे जलती ये माचिस की तीली हैं !
क्यों रेगिस्तान हैं सूखा और नदियाँ गीली हैं
क्यों पहाड़ हैं खड़ा और खाई गहरी हैं !
मूछ वाले हैं काका क्यों और
साड़ी वाली कैसे काकी हैं !
तू आकर तो सुलझा जरा
इस दुनिया में कितनी पहेली हैं !

सुबह हैं चमकीली और
शाम सुनहरी हैं !
दिन हैं उजालो वाला
पर रात अंधियारी हैं!
बारिश में निकलता छाता यहाँ
और सर्दियों में स्वेटर पहनना जरुरी हैं !
गर्मी कटे कैसे बिन कूलर के
हर मौसम की अपनी तैयारी हैं !
तू आकर तो देख जरा
हर दिन की यहाँ निराली कहानी हैं !

बादलो का हैं दोस्त तू
या सितारों की तू सहेली हैं !
आयेगा युवराज बनकर
या परी देस की शाहज़ादी हैं !
सूरत हैं कैसी तेरी
और किसने तेरी नज़र उतारी हैं !
पहचानेगा तू कैसे हमको
क्या तुझको हमारी जानकारी हैं !
तू आकर तो बता जरा
इस बात की बड़ी बेकरारी हैं !

ये आसमान बहुत ऊचा हैं
ये धरती भी बहुत बड़ी हैं
तू आकर तो देख जरा
ये दुनिया बहुत रंगीली हैं !