अन्बूझे से रह गए अनसुलझे से प्रश्न
काल भंवर से हो गए
मन के अंतर्द्वंद

कच्ची मिटटी में ढले
रिश्ते यहाँ हज़ार
कब टूटे कब जुड़ गए
मन से मन के तार

मृग तृष्णा सी  नीद हुयी
बंजारों सा चैन
पलकों में ही सूख गए
अलास्भोर के स्वप्न

सावन भादों बैरी हो गए
रस्ता भूला फाग
वीरह जेठ ने सुखा  दीए
तरुण-प्रेम के ताल

With-in-the-Lines

When I was a kid, I used to have a drawing book, we filled it with colors and very carefully colors were filled with-in-the-lines. Why they taught us to fill colors with in the lines? I don’t understand till now. What I understand is that we are living life in the same way; most of us, in fact all of us, sometimes me too. Staying in between the lines, avoiding risks at best. Our lives have been guided by someone else through out; sometimes people do it sometimes we impose others on ourselves. Teachers tell us how to behave, how to be good and well behaved. The boy or girl who tops in the class, guides us, we wished to be like him/her or we were told to become like him/her. Sometimes we were supposed to be like our cousins or some friend. Our own views didn’t exist.  We are brought up in that way only, we are supposed to follow rules, to stay with in the lines; lines drawn by society, family or relatives, anyone but ourselves. We all want to be ourselves; to live life in our own way, but how many times do we really dare to disturb the apple cart? When was the last time we did anything without caring about the society, without thinking “what people would say”?  Living life for others, allowing them to judge us, trying to be best according to their expectations, are we not strangers to ourselves? Are we not living a double life, hiding a secret desire to do some crazy thing, breaking off the unseen, unheard chains? Leave alone the crazy stuff, we are afraid of expressing our views, trying to please everyone around parents, spouse, friends, everyone but ourselves. Isn’t it pathetic! Are we not torturing our soul, moreover are we not insulting ourselves by neglecting our heart and mind? I doubt if this is something less heinous than hara-kiri. I often wonder how such people could be trusted, if one is not honest to himself/herself how the individual can be honest in a job or a relationship? Its not about being rebel or non conformist, it’s about being true to oneself.

Broken hearts evoke a sudden interest or excitement such that no other topic can. From who is hooked to whom to who ditched whom everything is awfully hilarious as long as it is happening to someone else. This one is from my college days. There used to be two lovers association: one sided and multi sided. One sided were the frustrated, hopeless romantics who were refused by girls and they resorted to smoke and keep on ranting about the girls (same girls who kicked them). Multisided were a bit more optimistic and energetic ones, they were known for their shifting interests. They were not any better than their contemporaries when it came to cigarettes and drinks occasionally.  Drinks were opened on a rare occasion, obviously when generations were gathered. Occasionally, because girls had left them penniless, no one can afford foreign stuff with a girlfriend in hand. Though the two groups had very different philosophies, at the end of the day they sat together in college canteen and open out their heart. Their compositions were made available to us by our classmates. It used to be a secret meeting at night and everybody was expected to maintain the code of conduct of secrecy. But boys will tell everything to their “at moment” friend and girls can’t stop themselves from leaking out such things. It was an AIR sort of programme. The name “Broken Hearts Association” was given by me; I had nothing to do with these associations, so I gave them a new name. We Indians have got a habit of giving advice on issues that don’t concern us, I am no different. Don’t ask me how I conveyed it.

I remember a particular affair. College affairs are known to everyone. Except the two people involved, every one else from tea-boy to canteen manager to fruit seller on the road knows it. One fine night a senior of ours (Mr. R.D.) decided to propose the lady (Ms. G. G.), his batch mate. I don’t know why but he was not willing to go alone. He wished one of his junior should accompany him as his driver. He was not trying to pretend to be a royal heir as he had to borrow the scooter from his classmate. May be he was feeling insecure or may be shy. Finally my classmate agreed. A phone call came at 10.30 at night in the hostel. Those were the days when cells phones were not very popular. Ringing at girl’s hostel at night was a tedious task in itself. I was surprised why on earth he would call at this moment. He (Ranjan) asked for the lady’s phone no. We gave him after shuffling our diaries. Next morning Life Sciences Division was empty. The two “would be bridegroom” and his escort left; the honorable lady was ready with her brother and his friends carrying hockey, iron chains and sticks at the base of the hill. We, the juniors were on the stairs of the temple, same temple where I was caught having tea. Our tea-man, the thellawal changed the venue immediately, he was expecting some gang war.  Seeing a whole army down the hill Mr R.D. lost all his courage. Suddenly he forgot all those romantic lines he composed last night; I suppose he lost his memory too. He refused to go ahead. Ranjan, the driver was adamant, he refused to back out. According to Ranjan it would prove them coward above all it would be a shame to whole division.  The lady was from another division and we were rivals, there used to be a bitter competition between the two Divisions. They stood there for half an hour, Sir ready to run any moment and his driver insisting on carrying forward. My friend had no intention of playing the martyr for a stupid senior. There was a deal between the two. We were enjoying the scene at the stairs; some enthusiastic juniors even carried the camera with them. Finally we got a signal from Ranjan to leave. At canteen a party was arranged for us by the Groom. “Bride” was no longer the prefix. Occasion: no one bothered. Poor fellow, who dreamt of being the bridegroom, never came to know who leaked his information to the lady.

P.S. Just a time-pass post, I am not able to think  anything properly. Nothing is happening or a lot may be happening!!!  

DIL  PE  MAT  LE  YAAR…..

Once again I am in a fix. Yesterday I read a full column on “suicidal tendencies” in HT. It has become an annual ritual, the moment board exam begins and there are reports of suicide. Some hang themselves; some try rat kill or phenyl. Kids have become so overstressed that they try killing themselves even before the exam starts. Grades are so important that it is worth to sacrifice a life for them. And who tells kids that they must be the best all the time? Kids are being treated like racing -horse. They must win every time, or they would be shot point blank! So much expectations are loaded off on an innocent brain, that child feels ashamed of himself/herself if he/she is not able to perform according to parents. People think that grades, gold medals and certificates can earn them respect, love, isn’t it amazing? Life can be equally happy and satisfactory even without top grades, in the end we don’t remember people who were in merit list, we remember people who have helped us in tough time, who have been kind and nice. It boosts confidence for the moment but whenever I am sad or lonely I don’t stare at my grades, rather I call my friends.

Another disturbing trend, many of you will laugh at it same as I did: to hang oneself because trauma of rejection/betrayal was too hard to handle. Suicide for fear of exams is explainable (if not acceptable), but giving life for someone who doesn’t cares for you or for the one who was never yours…..isn’t that foolish? Among teenagers love has become a “fast food” sort of item; quick order, quick ingestion and long indigestion. It has been glamorized in such a way by television that it has become a lifestyle disease. And damn it yaar, why everyone thinks of dying be it exams or affairs? Is it some new fashion? May be, I was not aware of it and this idea of hanging myself for a stupid “A” or some worthless person simply doesn’t fascinates. Wouldn’t it be a better option to toss such mark sheet and slap that bustard?

 Nothing wrong with being ambitious or romantic, but this obsession is fatal. This is a time when we all believe that merit makes intelligent and labels make gentleman. Brands don’t make a man gentleman, and academic excellence is no guarantee of being a sensible and good human being. The question is who will tell this to innocent kids?

Here’s a live example of my neighbour, this fellow failed three times in 12^th: maths, science and commerce (in chronogical order), finally managed to sail through in the fourth year with commerce. His proposals got rejected thrice over; flatly! Now the fellow is getting ready for marriage with fourth gal. When I asked him how long will he take to pass higher secondary, his reply was “exams hi to hein, agle saal phir de doonga, kaun sa kumbh ka mela hai ki 12 saal baad aayega?”

Remember that famous quote of Oscar Wilde “a little bit of sincerity is a dangerous thing, a great deal of it is absolutely fatal”. A little bit of insincerity helps a lot. Really.  

A Woman………

A laughter

or just a smile of mine

can make your day

I know when and how and why

mom will get angry,

where dad kept his papers and forget,

I know where to look for them

without even telling him.

I can guess

 if one is lying over the phone,

 can see tears

 before they appear in the eyes

I am blessed with ears

that can listen before a word is said.

Only I know how to cry

and laugh for the same reason,

value of unheard words, unsaid apologies,

I know I rule your world,

You may not actually

have the courage to accept it

But I can repeat it a hundred times

and mean it.

I have given you lyrics,

made you poet out of nothing

your definitions of beauty drab without me,

love is a scentless flower,

I know you better than yourself;

Though, at times I am a stranger to myself.

There are mirrors

All over in my heart

Nothing I hide, none can you

from me!

You can hurt me very easily,

Same I can do to you

even better than you,

still I never even try,

 I have created a religion

with a fallible God,

and I worship with all my faith!

Hard enough to fight this world,

to speak up for my beliefs,

Strong enough to embrace it

forgetting all the bitterness.

Rude, rash at times,

Falling over the shoulders next moment.

I am a woman……

Of course a proud one!

P.S. A small note of thanks to Rahul(Think Tank) for provoking this female chauvinist.

Love unacknowledged……

Autumn and winter moved

leaving an unusual quiet

Here I am, letting days passed

Changing dates

 trying to tear apart

 present from past

 trying to forget all that hurts

 every time a tear falls

 I wish it may be the last tear shed

 every time it pains

 I wish I remember you the last time

 Stabs me, my shattered dreams

 and I pray it may be the last night

Apparitions hunt

of a love long forgotten

There’s no love left

I repeat a thousand times

Lies I have been telling

to no one but myself

There’s a truth

 engraved in my soul

The truth’s a stalker

frightening the heart

I shall always keep it a secret

 from you and from me

Because that’s all I have now.

The Great Indian Colosseum

From where shall I start! Writing after a long time, mind is in a state of paralysis. Ever visited Colosseum? Those famous royal amphitheatres used to be infamous for their cruel games. One need not visit Rome, as whole of our country is like that only. The latest victim is a poor gal….yes…you guessed it right: Sania Mirza. The young lady is in dilemma if she has done anything wrong by playing for her country. She is being constantly hunted by news hungry media and enjoyed by celebrity obsessed public. One time it’s her dress on the tennis court, another time her shoot in some masjid or her tricolor issue. One can understand the frustration which leads to the decisions like “let’s not play here for some time”. Few months back it was Sachin Tendulkar, earlier Mr. N. Murthy. Richard Gere kisses Shilpa Shetty and morality- watchdogs come in to action.  We are a sincerely insincere nation. We can create a row over nothing, and what’s more we enjoy it too and then forget it. Who says India is an unemployed nation, we all are self employed, we all are “cultural police” in ourselves. Such is our obsession for “Indian culture” that each and every community is a lawmaker in itself. Ashutosh Gowarikar is next victim, some Rajput communities have found his “Jodha –Akbar” objectionable. Aamir Khan and Ajay Devgan learnt it hard way (remember Fanaa - Gangajal?). Either one is invading the culture of one community or hurting the sentiments of another, but it can’t be a cake walk, be it anything from books to dresses to movies. No shortage of issues to fight over. Nothing interests us and everything provokes us; quite amazingly, we are deaf and dumb and blind when it comes to stand up for real cause. This cultural intolerance has given name and fame to people like Togadia, who otherwise would have been non-entity. Our country is a huge cultural colosseum, where amateur wrestlers are busy practicing wrestling (free style kushti), just give them a hint and they’ll swing in to action flaunting their six pack abs; ready to chase, hunt and tear one down (same as those gladiatorial fighters). Here comes the Valentine Day and we’ll see a whole new tamasha in the name of “Indian tradition”. So folks..dont take it seriously and  ENJOY THE SHOW………!

Our college is situated on a hilltop, during rainy season or in winters it looks like some dream place, clouded and misty gives, an illusion of simla or mussorie. Just an illusion as it’s the one of the most infamous areas of Gwalior. Better known for kidnappings and murders. Girl’s hostel was just next to the college while for boys they have to live down the hill. Any movement to hostlers was restricted after 4.30 or at the most 5.0 pm. Even on Sunday we have to be back by 5.00. Such a dreaded place it is. I love morning walks, have been doing it since I was a kid. My grandpa used to wake me up early in the morning and took me with him to fetch milk from the nearby village. So this habit, I just cant leave it. When I came there, was very upset, simply because my morning walks were restricted. Tried everything officially, from convincing warden to taking special permission from HOD. Nothing worked; finally I managed to persuade the guard on duty. He agreed but only if I leave after 6 and comeback by 7. That was more than enough for me. I used to walk or jog alone, sometimes a friend of mine accompanied me, sometimes.. because this idea of jogging at 6am in the winter morning (read summer too) fascinated no one. During winters as I have told you its dark in the morning and sometimes I felt it is unsafe to walk alone. So I started pampering my friend, in no way she was agreeing, so I gave her an option of morning tea. Tea lovers so we were, she agreed. It was January end, winter started receding and mornings were beautiful. One Monday we left for morning walk and talking about several things reached too long. At last we remembered that we have college to attend, we started climbing fast. Then as they say. some people are bound to be beaten by habits. We saw a thelewalla just starting his day, preparing tea. Without thinking that we are getting late we stopped there and ordered tea, till he prepared tea, my friend gave him a shot”bhaiya adrak daal dena” and then again we got busy with our discussion sitting on the stairs of temple. We didn’t realized, none of us noticed that an auto came there, diverting from its route and stopped behind us. She just thought and murmured” yaar ye auto mein subha-2 kaun bhakt aaya hai! Log bhagwaan ko chain se sone bhi naihn dete” suddenly we heard a very familiar voice>>Shweta, Parul.chalna hai ooper? The very moment we froze there, holding tea kullhads in our hand, trying to hide them just could not dare to look at her for few seconds. Somehow I regained my senses, “maam aap chaliye hum bus 5 min mein taiyar hkar ate Hein” She was our HOD. After that all sorts of stomach cramps which we had never heard of, we felt for the next five min, reached hostel somehow. Everyone left by then. We decied not to go to the college. For complete four days we stayed at hostel passing time somehow. Fifth day we reached college, we thought she might have forgotten by now. We were wrong, she used to call us everyday, send them and she was told that we were sick (by dutiful friends of ours). The moment we reached in the class came the fatwa, knowing very well that something unpleasant is going to happen we entered her room. My friend she was sensible enough to close the door completely and lock it from inside to prevent voice going from outside. Then She took her position in front of the glass door so that outsiders cant see that we are being scolded (she is quite fat, her fatness helped us save our dignity). And then we received the worst scolding of our lifetime. I knew nothing would work, we were caught red handed; had someone else given her the information I would have dodged her and corrected her informer too. But she saw it herself. She started in typical mother like tone: at 9 in the morning you were having tea at a thela? With loweres and tea shirts? Is you college canteen that bad? Is this the way girls of reputed families behave? Don’t you have some common sense and social sense? What the peopled passing by would be thinking? Whole medical college boys would be having a free show on your part> this I remember, and hear, after that what she said we could not get, except “get lost and get out”. We came out and composed ourselves very quickly, entered the classroom, cool and calm, everyone asked what the matter she’s been calling you daily? Nothing she wanted to discuss when to schedule second internals? I replied, we smiled at each other and regained our seats.

Now so many years have passed, we got what we wanted, everyone is settled in his/her respective fields, but no get together, it’s not possible. There was a time when we had no money cold drinks were ordered on sharing basis. Now that a cold drink doesn’t matters, there’s no one to share. Life has given everyone everything, but something is missing. What is it? May be a kulhad tea with a friend!

TAINTED CHILDHOOD

Two class 8 students shot dead their classmate, with a revolver. Like many others I was shocked and then felt lucky; I finished my schooling years before when schools were not so murky-unsafe places. Kids are stabbing, shooting, conspiring against each other. In a moment I imagined a school like some horrible place. It’s really very difficult to guess what’s going on in a child’s mind. Why they have become so intolerant, short- tempered, why there’s been no compassion, no friendship or empathy? Has the time changed so much? I am still to come to terms with it.

I had a very happy childhood, I am very proud to say that. Unlike these days, there was no cut-throat competition. Competition was there, a healthy one, we all helped each other. I never reached school on the beginning day, always 10-15 days late. Then I used to distribute my notebooks to my classmates and they used to scribble notes which I had missed (later on I did same thing for my sister). I remember our math’s teacher was very strict (from a child’s point of view, he was “cruel”). We used to reach school 30min before the time and help those in math’s who didn’t finished homework, so that no one gets punished. An English teacher (she was most popular in the school) she used to tell us stories every weekend, provided we’ll finish our homework on time, I was in 3^rd standard that time. I got to see her again after 9-10 years and she almost ran in to tears, we both. Do kids these days have such type of relationship with their teachers? Like any other kid we too have all sorts of fighting, bullying, teasing but nothing personal, if someone was hurt somehow whole day was spent in reconciliation. I never felt like missing school it was so much fun, in fact I was irritable when I had to stay at home for some reason. Now when I see around, schools are not- so- liked places. Most of the kids don’t go school; they are forced to go there.

What is it that’s developing such intolerance? Something must be seriously wrong with the atmosphere we provide our kids. Are not parents putting them under extreme pressure by expecting them to be on the top of each and everything every time? Is this cut-throat competition sucking their innocence, killing the child inside them? May be because they are most of the time hooked to computer and computer-games, they don’t know how to socialize, there’s no concern for other person and they don’t respect anyone else’s view. It has become “I, me, myself” type of life. It may be because parents are not giving enough time to their child, thinking money can compensate for their absence. Weapons like revolvers, mousers, are kept open in homes; a 12 year old can take them to school to shoot his classmate. Whose fault it is?

 Parents fulfill all demands of the kids, reasonable or unreasonable without teaching them that everything comes with a price, as a result kids these days cant take “no” for an answer. May be this feeling of possessing each and everything provokes them to go up to any length. We expect them to bring home excellent grades forgetting that being a good human being is the first requisite for doing anything excellent.

 What Kunwar “bachain” wrote seems so appropriate:

Phool ko khaar banane pe tuli hai duniyaan,

Sabko angaar banane pe tuli hai duniyaan.

Mein mahakti huyi mitti hoon kissi aangan ki

Mujhko deewaar banane pe tuli hai duniyaan.

Bhole bachchoon se cheen ke bholapan

Unko hoshiyaar banane pe tuli hai duniyaa

Last 10 days…..

I was invisible since last 10 days, doing what I love most: Travel. Was on roaming in TN. Got a chance to attend a conference and it was a trip planned and executed all at a sudden. First two days were irritating, as it was raining in Chennai, Chennai is the city I never liked and certainly would not have gone there had my consent been taken. Hated it since the first time I visited there. Like love at first sight, it was hatred at first sight, which still persists. Everything else was wonderful.

Pondicherry is a beautiful place, well maintained, buildings decently painted, and sea beach so neat and clean. It floored me at first sight. Alas..no job opportunities there for me! On my way back to home in a 36 hours journey from Madurai to Gwalior, I kept thinking about people who came across. Like a family from Hyderabad with whom I never felt like a stranger not even once, right from the beginning. Like that priest who warned us “Rameswaram is not a place for picnic”. When he noticed that I am not paying enough attention to him, it was his indirect scolding. I thought its better to pretend a little bit sincere (call me Hippocrate, you have read my “sincere/insincere blog” but he was ready to kick me out of the Island next moment).Like that angry old man from Bihar; he was angry with his daughter and son-in-law for not letting him come alone and his anger rose to superlative degree when he talked to me (why I was alone there!). The hotel manager at Kanyakumari who gave scores of excuses for a room. Our bus driver , he was kind enough to tell me that people refrain from giving rooms to single ladies as in past several suicidal incidents have taken place (I wonder why I would go to Kanyakumari with all my bag and baggage to commit suicide and what is so feminine about that place that girls only commit suicide there!). Two elderly ladies offered me to share the room with them, seeing me in trouble.

Travel gives me an opportunity to think, to think freely about lots of things and people. Important, unimportant, several things come to mind something that really does matters and sometimes things that are complete nonsense but I cant stop thinking. Felt much relieved after a long awaited break. Now I am not a traditionally religious person (people around me term me as an atheist, though my definition of a theist is quite contrary to the general belief, but I don’t feel the need to correct them) so there’s nothing like I am feeling at ease because I visited a pilgrim. But yes do feeling like I have shed tons of burden, may be I was not giving enough time to myself, may be I needed a break, may be I needed to go somewhere! This break was same as a T.V. advertisement: regular series will resume now…..