कुछ बदला बदला सा क्यूँ है,
इस धूप में?
जाड़ों की है ये, वो भी जाड़ों की थी
उन्हीं पर्दों से छान रहा हूँ,
बार बार, हर बार जतन कर
फिर भी धांस अलग अलग सी,
आती है क्यूँ
इस धूप में?
शायद कुछ मिल जाता होगा रंज,
कुछ टूटे से सपने
चंद क़ातिलों
की यादों का अरक कहीं पड़ जाता होगा
तभी अजायब सूंघ रहा हूँ,
परेशान सा,
इस धूप में।
कोई कांच बना पाऊँ
जो उन यादों झलक दिखा दे
कुछ लम्हों को चुन लेने दे, कुछ
चेहरों की भीख दिला दे
नरमाई,
वो हंसी ठिठोली,
उम्मीदें, ममता की खुशबू
मिल जाएँ फिर पुरबाई तो,
अपनेपन का चरख चढ़ा कर
धौला हो लूँ
इस धूप में।
Sunday, November 28, 2010
मज़े उसके, उड़ायेजा
ना आया कहीं से बुज़दिल, ना कहीं वो जाएगा
खाक़ से पैदा हुआ था, खाक़ में मिल जाएगा।
चंद लम्हे, हक़ से हैं जो, ज़िन्दगी के, जीते जा
तू नहीं, तो ये जहां क्या? ज़िन्दगी क्या कायनात?
जो नसीबे वक़्त मुमकिन, मज़े उसके, उड़ायेजा।
<२४११२०१०१५२४>
खाक़ से पैदा हुआ था, खाक़ में मिल जाएगा।
चंद लम्हे, हक़ से हैं जो, ज़िन्दगी के, जीते जा
तू नहीं, तो ये जहां क्या? ज़िन्दगी क्या कायनात?
जो नसीबे वक़्त मुमकिन, मज़े उसके, उड़ायेजा।
<२४११२०१०१५२४>
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Terrible Incident
Some days back, maybe last sunday, something happened that made me feel sick... made me even cry the following night. But I must record it for good. It was a regular day, I went to saket to meet surbhi generally. It was almost 10:30 when I started heading back home in metro. When i reached rajiv chowk, where i needed to change metro, i went up to stand in queue on the platform. There was a big guy in front of me who looked drunk and he was shamelessly staring at a young girl standing in front of him. Occasionally he would step forward and stare her facing her straight like an animal. Poor girl was undoubtedly shaken at his behavior and all she could do was call somebody on her phone and start a conversation. This whole thing really made me uncomfortable and I went around to find a cop or someone to lodge a protest and complain but i found nobody. I came back and decided to get involved. The guy was huge but drunk to my advantage so I came close to him and tried to push him without letting him know my intentions. This helped in getting his attention onto me rather than on the girl. He stared at me in anger and i stared back in his eyes. After a few moments he went back to his business (of staring the girl in the most vulgar way) so I pushed him again, much to his anger but before he could react, train arrived and he started planning how to get hold of the girh while she was getting in... as the door opened, i gently held the girls hand and pushed that bhenchod inside the train. After that the girl enetred the train, to my utter surprise and disgust, he started chaing her - poucing at her.... bastard! I kind of started acting as a wall between him and the girl. I kept jumping between them. And soon as the bastard started to talk to a co-traveller, i realized that he was a cop!! I knew i couldnt get him straight on then. So I kep pushing him away from the girl. I even tried a bit of chest fight! ;) although he was big but i realized we were equal in might because he was drunk as hell... well, after a few stations, he deboarded without being able to touch the girl, thankfully! The incident reminded me of a few things - 1. in delhi nobody gives a damn about anyone else 2. that delhi is the rape capital of the world is no lie 3. similar things must have happened to girls and women i love and care about. It made me utterly angry and filled me with disgust. Will ever be law and order restored back in this city? ever?
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Pretence
I live in a funny part of the world... where people live dual lives... where pretence is part of life... where it is next to impossible to be what you really are. If you tell them that you dont really care if somebody has born or somebody has died in a distant relation, they'll be shocked. But I'm yet to figure out whether they're really shocked or just pretend to be shocked. I think they are genuinely shocked but not because you dont care about that distant relative but shocked because you spoke your mind in front of them. So, not speaking your mind is the norm here. Keep mum! Dont spell out any fucking word! Shhh! I am sure none of them gives a shit about all those distant relatives but they guard it as if its a classified state secret! Bizarre but true. It is hard to imagine, how do they maintain their peace of mind? their sanity? But as I have always believed, human mind is a wonderful piece of creation. It has endless dimensions and capabilities. Leading a dual life is just a child's play... If allowed, interested and nurtured, people can live numerous lives at the same time. Intent of their mind will make it possible... But why only this part of the world has so many creative minds? Question still remains...
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
क्यूँ
क्यूँ के जब इंसान बना, इंसान के साथ ही "क्यूँ" दुनिया में आ गया। तब से बात बात में "क्यूँ", हर काम में "क्यूँ", जीने में "क्यूँ", मरने में "क्यूँ"...बस "क्यूँ" ही "क्यूँ"। बहुत ही अजीब चीज़ है ये "क्यूँ"। कोई निठल्ला बैठा हो तो लोग पूछेंगे क्यूँ। उठ के चलने लगे तो भी पूछ बैठेंगे क्यूँ। लोगों की तो क्या ही बात कि जाए, खुद अपना ज़हन भी क्यूँ पूछे बिना कहाँ ठहरता है? मान भी लिया जाए कि कई बार क्यूँ का जवाब मौजूद होता है मगर ये कहाँ कि शराफ़त है कि हर उस चीज़ पर सवाल किया जाए जिसका जवाब मौजूद है। ये तो सरासर नाइंसाफी है...है कि नहीं? इक रोज़ इश्क़ हुआ तो ना जाने कितनी बार ज़हन ने दिल से पूछा - "क्यूँ?", मगर लाख चाह कर भी जवाब नसीब न हुआ। अब अगर ये जुर्म हो तो कोई पुलिस में इत्तेला कर दे, मगर जवाब की नामौजूदगी भी कभी जुर्म हुआ करती है क्या? इतना ही नहीं, इश्क़ का इज़हार हुआ तो जनाब ने पूछा क्यूँ? अब ज़माना कितना भी खराब क्यूँ न हो, इश्क़ का इज़हार आज भी मुशरिकी में नहीं गिना जाता। कोई मुशरिकी कर बैठे तो उस से पूछ भी लिया जाए के "क्यूँ"? मगर इज़हारएइश्क़ पर भी "क्यूँ"? बड़े ताज्जुब की बात है। यूँ तो हर आशिक़ यही दुआ करता है की उसके इज़हार पे इक़रार हो ही जाए मगर असल में ऐसी कुव्वत ख़ुशकिस्मती से ही नसीब हो पाती है। चलिए, हर इज़हार का नतीजा इक़रार न भी हो मगर ये भी कहाँ तक जायज़ है की हर इनकार पे "क्यूँ" का साया डाल दिया जाए? ये तो कोई बात न हुई। आखिर हमसफ़र सिर्फ एक मुसाफिर ही चुनले और दूसरे की राय न ले तो सफ़र ही शुरू कहाँ हो पायेगा? तो आखिर सफ़र शुरू हो ही नहीं पाया। रो धो के भी क्या हासिल होता, सोचा सफ़र बाद में कभी देखेंगे, फ़िलहाल अदनी तामीलों की ही अदायिगी कर लें - कौन जाने सफ़र कर भी पायेंगे इन्साफ की रात के पहले या नहीं? अब "क्यूँ" पूछने से सफ़र तो शुरू नहीं हो जाएगा ना ...
जफ़ा से तौबा
की उसने मेरे क़त्ल के बाद जफ़ा से तौबा,
हाय! उस ज़ूद पशेमान का पशेमान होना।
Ah! The remorse of the one
Who after finishing me,
Took the vow never to be cruel again.
So soon did he repent!
Bravo!
--- Ghalib
हाय! उस ज़ूद पशेमान का पशेमान होना।
Ah! The remorse of the one
Who after finishing me,
Took the vow never to be cruel again.
So soon did he repent!
Bravo!
--- Ghalib
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Wine, Vodka and Yagyopaveet - 1
Wine, Vodka and Yagyopaveet… what a title for blog entry, I thought - weird but interesting and more importantly describing me as I am today. If I were a third person observing myself, I would have been surprised to see all the changes I have gone through. Pleasantly surprised, I guess. And it looks that I keep on evolving every day. This also delights me. And I can never thank people who made me what I am today enough. There are lots of them. Some of them spent very little time in my life but they left a lasting impression. Some are still there, building a part of me every day. Will I ever be able to pay back anyone of them to the extent what they deserve? Don’t think so. But I can assure them that they live inside me – my memories and they will continue to do so forever. There is this urge in me to describe myself. Its going to be funny, isnt it? And because its going to be difficult to do so in a single stretch, i'll probably do the same in parts. Part-1 is kinda prelude...
Sunday, August 15, 2010
A letter to Jayant
Dear Jayant
Following the small Helix talk that we had yesterday, I wish to tell you something although I understand that our principles and priorities in life are a bit different now mainly owing to different circumstances we are living in. And although we are still best of friends, we have gradualy lost out on the innocence, purity and stupidity in our cherished friendship (which I miss everyday). But as I have become less naive over the years, I understand different perspectives, limitations and needs of people now. I have realized that none of us is perfect. Its only that I was so much intertwined with my own little utopian world that sometimes regular things come to me as shocks in life. I want to share this with you honestly that there came a point in my life when I had almost decided to walk away from my dearest and most loving friend. It was a blow to me because, as you might know, practically my only family was my friends then. And I was a kind of person who would not let a family member do things which he would consider inappropriate - kind of a person who would not believe in "accept people as they are" philosophy. But surprisingly I got rid of my over possessiveness, my thanklessness and part of my unforgiving nature. Maybe I became less arrogant and more humane. But I must also confess that I lost a large part of passion for my friendship. And maybe this was for my own good because it helped me set some of my prorities in life. All said and done, by God's grace I didnt run away from my best friend at the end of the day. A more mature, balanced and peaceful friendship prevailed. You eventually got married (to an extremely kind, wise and wonderful girl). And I was quite happy about it afterall. I must also tell you that after your marriage, you've become quite hardworking, responsible and punctual. This gives me immense pleasure. And I'm sure your sustained efforts in SHx direction will yield quick results. They alreday have to a large extent and I, personally, do not see any reason for you to lose heart and motivation at this point. But there are still some areas where you must venture and gain exposure and confidence. Public relations, marketing and 'client management' could be a few to name. Since SHx, I see you grown up 200% as a professional (which is impressive). And this will never go waste even if you opt for a job elsewhere. On a second thought, considering the financial and moral obligation that you need to fulfill back home, I suggest that you be VERY clear in your professional priorities. I hope you will understand.
With you, always.
Following the small Helix talk that we had yesterday, I wish to tell you something although I understand that our principles and priorities in life are a bit different now mainly owing to different circumstances we are living in. And although we are still best of friends, we have gradualy lost out on the innocence, purity and stupidity in our cherished friendship (which I miss everyday). But as I have become less naive over the years, I understand different perspectives, limitations and needs of people now. I have realized that none of us is perfect. Its only that I was so much intertwined with my own little utopian world that sometimes regular things come to me as shocks in life. I want to share this with you honestly that there came a point in my life when I had almost decided to walk away from my dearest and most loving friend. It was a blow to me because, as you might know, practically my only family was my friends then. And I was a kind of person who would not let a family member do things which he would consider inappropriate - kind of a person who would not believe in "accept people as they are" philosophy. But surprisingly I got rid of my over possessiveness, my thanklessness and part of my unforgiving nature. Maybe I became less arrogant and more humane. But I must also confess that I lost a large part of passion for my friendship. And maybe this was for my own good because it helped me set some of my prorities in life. All said and done, by God's grace I didnt run away from my best friend at the end of the day. A more mature, balanced and peaceful friendship prevailed. You eventually got married (to an extremely kind, wise and wonderful girl). And I was quite happy about it afterall. I must also tell you that after your marriage, you've become quite hardworking, responsible and punctual. This gives me immense pleasure. And I'm sure your sustained efforts in SHx direction will yield quick results. They alreday have to a large extent and I, personally, do not see any reason for you to lose heart and motivation at this point. But there are still some areas where you must venture and gain exposure and confidence. Public relations, marketing and 'client management' could be a few to name. Since SHx, I see you grown up 200% as a professional (which is impressive). And this will never go waste even if you opt for a job elsewhere. On a second thought, considering the financial and moral obligation that you need to fulfill back home, I suggest that you be VERY clear in your professional priorities. I hope you will understand.
With you, always.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
My Fairy
It couldn't have been better. There was she... standing in front of me, smiling and looking in my eyes! I was simply awestruck. I had never seen anyone prettier than her in my entire life. Her deep sea green eyes..so big and so innocent... her face like an angel's, was she a goddess? or a princess of west? I couldn't comprehend. And will I ever forget the aura that surrounded her or the halo that was so magnificent? She had captured my heart for ever. Being with her was like being in heaven... I had never known any other heaven though except this. As she started to walk towards me on the soft green turf of the meadows, I could suddenly hear the piano playing somewhere, playing a soothing melody for us. Her creamy silk dress flew in the lovely breeze of the dark blue sky garnished with a couple of clouds. And each of her steps towards me seemed to bring me more and more enlightenment, more and more freedom, more and more joy. It was like coming closer to God. I had lived my entire life for this one moment. As she came close, the hills in the background blurred. I could clearly see myself in her eyes now... I had already drowned in them to be honest. Her dark brown eyelashes and her golden brows, her white flawless skin and her thin red lips shivering in divinity, her hazel long locks of hair flowing with the wind here and now. Was she for real? I wondered. And determined to bring worth to my being I slowly held her hand. The softness of her tender white fingers brought out the tears of compassion and love in my sinking eyes and I broke down. This was my salvation, to be with my fairy. As she embraced me, I knew it was time for me to leave and go with her. Leave my hollow life, my hollow body and my sorrows and worries. Leave that gruesome world and go with her into wilderness, into nature, into rivers, woods, oceans and skies, go into millions of perfumed flowers and thousands of singing birds..with her...holding her hand and looking into her eyes... and thats what I did.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
नमूना
"यार, यकीन नहीं होता...कमाल है!!"
आदित्य कि आँखें विस्मय से फटी जा रहीं थीं.
"किशन?... अपना किशन?"
"नहीं, ऐसा नहीं हो सकता यार...!"
आदित्य बार बार एक ही बात कहे जा रहा था.
"ऐसा ही है. तू मान या न मान... और..नहीं भी मानेगा तो क्या फरक पड़ेगा?"
विकास ने ठंडी आवाज़ में आदित्य को समझाने कि आखिरी कोशिश की. उसे समझ नहीं आ रहा था कि आदित्य इतना क्यूँ भड़क रहा था. मैनें तो चुप रहने में ही अपनी भलाई समझी.
"अबे, मुझे भी अजीब ज़रूर लगा था मगर तू तो पागल सा ही हो गया..! ठीक है, तू अब तक उसे अपने जैसा समझ रहा था मगर उसने तो कभी नहीं कहा कि वो हिन्दू है. हम सब के साथ रहता है, पढता है, खेलता है, तेरे साथ रात भर बाईक पर आवारागर्दी करता है... कभी शक ही नहीं हुआ कि वो क्रिश्चियन है. नाम भी तो हिन्दुओं जैसा है उसका... लेकिन क्या फरक पड़ता है? उसने तो कभी झूठ नहीं कहा ना... अबे, क्रिश्चियन भी हो तो है तो अपना दोस्त ही ना.."
"...मगर..."
"...छोड़ ना अब.. चल कैंटीन चलते हैं...पेट में कब से चूहे दौड़ रहे हैं...कुछ नहीं रखा इस फालतू कि बहस में."
विकास ने पेट पर हाथ फेरते हुए नाटकीय अंदाज़ में कहा.
"...खाओ, पीओ, करो आनंद...कह गए भाई परमानन्द.."
"..चल.."
मैनें आदित्य को लगभग बाहर धक्का देते हुए कहा. इसकी बहसबाजी से ना जाने कितनी बार दिमाग का दही करवा चुका हूँ.
विकास फिर भी ठीक था. ज्यादा टेंशन नहीं लेता था. और ना ही उसे पोलिटिक्स, धरम वरम कि बातों में कोई इंटेरेस्ट था. लेकिन आदित्य पक्का देशभक्त. स्वयं को समाज सुधारक समझते थे जनाब. बचपन में पिताजी आर. एस. एस. कि शाखा में क्या ले गए, एक एक करके निक्कर धारियों के सारे कैंप अटेंड कर आये बरखुरदार. अब ना जाने क्या घुट्टी पिलाते हैं ये शाखा वाले ये तो वोही जाने मगर सच ये है कि इंसान का नमूना बना देते हैं.
* * *
हुआ यूँ कि कल मैं और विकास लोधी रोड पर तफरी मार रहे थे. सन्डे जो था. आई एच सी में एक प्ले लगा था. हमने सोचा चलो प्ले भी देख लेंगे और लंच भी बाहर हो जाएगा. आखिर सन्डे को हॉस्टल में तो खाना मिलने से रहा. मगर जैसे ही लोधी रोड पर टर्न लिया, क्या देखते हैं कि मेथोडिस्ट चर्च के बाहर किशन खड़ा है. आनन फानन में ब्रेक लगाया और बाईक घुमा ली.
"अरे किशन तू क्या कर रहा है यहाँ?"
हमको यूँ आसमान से टपकता देख, किशन सकपका सा गया.
"...तुम?! ..यहाँ?!"
"..अरे हम तो यूँ ही भटक रहे हैं भाई, मगर तू क्या कर रहा है यहाँ?"
"...मैं? मैं तो... हर सन्डे आता हूँ... यहाँ.."
"..क्यूँ?"
"..क्यूँ क्या? आता हूँ ..बस.."
"..अबे लडकियां ताड़ने आता है क्या?"
हम भी कहाँ छोड़ने वाले थे किशन को. टांग खींचने कि पुरानी आदत जो ठहरी.
"..बता"
"..प्रेयर करने आता हूँ... गुनाह है क्या?
किशन के चेहरे से घबराहट साफ़ झलक रही थी. मगर आवाज़ में खीज के साथ गुस्सा भी था.
"...प्रेयर करने आता हूँ.."
एक पल के लिए तो हमें झटका सा लगा था. मगर अगले ही पल तस्वीर साफ़ हो गयी थी. हम तो यही सोचे बैठे थे कि ऐसे ही आया होगा चर्च... कभी ख़याल ही नहीं आया कि किशन अलग धरम का होगा...
"...ओह. ओके..सॉरी.."
इतना ही कह पाए हम. समझ ही नहीं आया क्या कहें.
"...चल, ठीक है मिलते हैं फिर.."
औपचारिकता पूरी कर, हम वहां से निकल आये. देखा भी नहीं किशन को मुड़ कर दोबारा. ना प्ले देखने कि इच्छा हुई ना ही भूख लगने के आसार थे सो चुपचाप वापस हॉस्टल लौट आये. कुछ घंटों तक चुप रहे, सोचते रहे. फिर लगा क्या फरक पड़ता है. हिन्दू हो या क्रिश्चियन... है तो किशन हमारा दोस्त ही ना.
पर ये तो मैं और विकास थे जो सदमे से जल्दी उबर गए थे. आदित्य कि बात अलग थी... पक्का देशभक्त जो समझता था खुद को वो...
* * *
"अभी रात को उसके रूम पे जा के बात करूंगा उस से..."
सामने चाय के साथ मैगी कि प्लेट रखी थी फिर भी आदित्य कि बकवास बंद नहीं हुई. हाँ, बकवास ही थी, और क्या?
इतनी बार समझा लिया कि भाई, क्यूँ टेंशन ले रहा है - क्या बिगड़ गया तेरा. मगर लगता है कि टूटे रिकॉर्ड कि तरह अटक गया है ये.
"अरे, है क्रिश्चियन तो होता रहे मगर छुपाने का क्या मतलब है?"
"अरे धरम बदल रहे हो तो कम से कम हिम्मत से कहो तो तो सही कि हाँ जी, हमने अपना धरम बदल लिया...कर लो जो करना है.."
"मगर इतनी हिम्मत होती तो इन मिशनरीज़ के बहकावे में आते ही क्यूँ?
"अभी रात को उसके रूम पे जा के पूछूंगा..."
काफी देर तक तो विकास चुप बैठा रहा. जल्दी गुस्सा नहीं आता है उसे. लेकिन अचानक भड़क गया वो.
"दिमाग खराब है क्या? एक घंटे से बकवास किये जा रहा है...! जैसे क्रिश्चियन होना कोई जुर्म है..! इंडिया है ये. सेकुलर है... समझा तू? सेकुलर. सब बराबर हैं. तेरी तरह जात धरम में बांटा नहीं जाता यहाँ लोगों को. और तुझे तो अफगानिस्तान में पैदा होना चाहिए था. तू... तालिबान है..! समझा? हिन्दू तालिबान... ब्लडी एक्सट्रीमिस्ट!"
"और अगर तूने कोई फ़ालतू बात किशन से करी तो देख लियो..!"
आदित्य को धमकी देता हुआ, उठ के चला गया विकास कैंटीन से. कभी कभार ही इतना गुस्सा आता है उसे. मगर ठीक ही तो कह गया था वो. मन ही मन विकास को असली देशभक्त मानता था मैं. आदित्य कि बातें पिछड़ी, गंवारू और पोंगापंथी मालुम होती थीं.
फिर भी में आदित्य के साथ ही बैठा रहा. मुझे लगा कहीं अकेले जा के किशन को कुछ उल्टा सीधा ना बोल दे. तरस आ रहा था किशन पर अब मुझे. और आदित्य पर गुस्सा.
मेरी चाय ख़तम हो चुकी थी पर आदित्य कि जस कि तस पड़ी हुई थी. मैगी भी सारी मैनें ही ख़तम की थी. जैसे जैसे शाम ढलने लगी वैसे वैसे कैंटीन में लड़की-लड़कों कि भीड़ बढ़ने लगी. मंडे ईवनिंग थी. लगभग सारे अच्छे लेक्चर्स मंडे को ही होते थे. इसलिए कैंटीन में भी बात-चीत के शोर में सोशल साइंस और इकोनोमिक्स की झलक नज़र आ रही थी. माहौल थोडा सामान्य लगा तो दिल को भी थोडा सुकून मिला. आदित्य चुपचाप ज़मीन को घूरे जा रहा था. कम से कम चुप तो था.
इतने में क्या देखता हूँ कि सामने से किशन आ रहा है. हमारी ही तरफ. चेहरा उसका गंभीर लग रहा था. मैनें नज़र दूसरी तरफ घुमा ली. ना जाने क्या बोले किशन...
"दादा..!"
मुझे दादा ही बोलते थे ये सारे. शायद सारे बांग्ला-भाषियों को दादा ही बोला जाता है यहाँ दिल्ली में.
"...अरे.. किशन?"
"...तू कब आया?"
"..अभी.."
"..आ,..बैठ.."
"नहीं. तुम तीनों से कुछ बात करनी है. रूम पे चलोगे मेरे?.. या यहीं....कर लें..?"
परेशान लग रहा था किशन.
"हाँ..हाँ.. चल रूम पे चलते हैं..."
मैनें जल्दी जल्दी उठते हुए कहा.
"..आदित्य?"
"..चलें क्या.."
अब भी ज़मीन में देख रहा था आदित्य.
"...क्यूँ? रूम पे क्यूँ? यहीं बात कर लेते हैं श्री किशन मुंडा जी से.."
उसकी आवाज़ में जो उपहास छुपा था वो मुझे कतई अच्छा नहीं लगा.
"...अबे कह रहा है तो रूम पे चल लेते हैं, कोई ज़रूरी बात होगी तभी तो कह रहा है..."
"...नहीं! बात होगी, तो यहीं होगी...दादा!"
आदित्य ने नज़र उठा कर किशन कि तरफ देखा. इस बार उसकी आवाज़ नरम थी मगर शब्द फिर भी कठोर के कठोर.
"...बैठ किशन"
"...आदित्य.. यार..."
किशन फुसफुसाया
"...मैं जानता हूँ कि मुझ को चर्च में देख कर तुम लोगों को अजीब लगा होगा..मगर..."
"...मगर क्या?"
"...सॉरी यार..कभी बताया नहीं तुम लोगों को... कभी ज़रुरत ही नहीं लगी...और फिर डर भी तो था... क्या मालूम क्या समझते तुम लोग.. खासकर तू.."
"खासकर में..?"
"हाँ..वो... तू... आर एस एस में जाता है ना..."
"लेकिन किशन, तू क्यूँ कन्वर्ट हुआ? ...क्यूँ यार? ...क्या प्रॉब्लम थी?..तू बता मुझे.... किसने इन फालतू चीज़ों में फसाया? .."
आदित्य बिलकुल सेंटी हो गया था. लग रहा था जैसे उसका भाई बिछड़ रहा हो सामने के सामने.
"तू बोल किशन यार... कौन लोग हैं ये...जिन्होंने तुझे ऐसे फसाया... मैं मदद करूंगा यार अगर कुछ प्रॉब्लम है .. फॅमिली में.. मगर ऐसे चक्कर में मत आ यार.."
इधर किशन चुप था. आदित्य का रीएक्शन देख कर. उधर आदित्य कि आँखें नाम हुई जा रही थीं. शायद बिना वजह.
"मुझे पता है... ज़रूर कोई मजबूरी होगी तेरी किशन... नहीं तो कोई कोई अपना धरम, अपना कल्चर थोड़े ही छोड़ देता है... लेकिन में हूँ ना, मुझे अपना भाई समझ, मुझे बता क्या प्रॉब्लम है..."
यकायक, किशन कुछ कहने को हुआ मगर उसकी आवाज़ भर्रा गई.
"...आदित्य, तू नहीं जानता..."
लगा कि किशन अभी रो ही देगा. न जाने क्या हो रहा था यहाँ. मैं कन्फ्यूज्ड था. आसपास कुछ लोग खड़े नज़र आ रहे थे. शोर कम हो चुका था. विकास भी ना जाने कब से मेरे पीछे खड़ा सब सुन रहा था. छोटी सी बात अब छोटी नहीं रही थी. शायद.
"...आदित्य, तू नहीं जानता..."
"...मेरे गाँव में...,उलहातु के पास गाँव है मेरा, ... सुना है कभी उलहातु?.."
"..नहीं"
"...झारखंड के बीहड़ में है...."
"....बारिश में मेरे गाँव आ नहीं सकता है तेरे जैसा कोई.. जानता है क्यूँ?"
"..नहीं"
"....तीन तरफ खड़ा पानी है, एक तरफ जंगल. एक बांस कि पुलिया है गाँव में आने के लिए...बांस पे लटक के आना पड़ता है..."
"मुंडा हूँ मैं... बिरसा मुंडा के गोत्र का... मेरे बापू बिरसा मुंडा कि तरह सरना धरम मानते थे... उनके बापू, मेरे बाबा, बताया करते थे सरना धरम के बारे में हमको...सदियों से चला आ रहा है सरना धरम मुंडा लोगों में. धरती अम्मा को, जंगल के देवों को मानते थे हम लोग. पोखरों में धान बो लेते थे. झाड़ियों से बेर और कभी मछली मिले तो मछली और हिरना मिले तो हिरना, पकड़ लाते. फिर भी भोग लगाते कभी महुआ के देवता को तो कभी पहाड़ी के देवता को. धान कटता तो, गोद भरती गाँव में किसी बहना की या बाबा सामान कोई बड़ा बूढा चल बसता तो भी कभी जंगल के देवों को भूले नहीं मुंडा लोग....बांस की झोंपड़ियों में रहते सब और मिट्टी से आँगन लीप लेते..."
किशन के मुहं से निकला एक एक शब्द इतना गहरा था की सब के सब खो गए थे. एकदम सन्नाटा था अब.
"....जब चार बरस का था में तब गाँव में बीमारी फैली थी... सब घरों से कोई ना कोई बीमारी की भेंट चढ़ गया... मेरे घर से मेरी माँ और दो बहनें..."
"...बाबा कहते थे की सौ साल पहले साधू बाबा आये थे गाँव में. रामायण, भागवत की कथा सुनाया करते थे... गाँव में ही रह गए थे और वहीँ समाधी ले गए...कहते थे, सारे मुंडा लोग किशन भगवान् को बहुत प्यारे लगते हैं...इसीलिए मेरा नाम किशन रखा था बाबा ने...."
"....तब से कोई नहीं आया था गाँव...जब बीमारी फैली तब भी सबको लगता था की कौन आएगा अब... जंगल के देवों का ही सहारा था....लेकिन वो भी ना रीझे... भोग लगाया था हमेशा फिर भी...लेकिन एक दिन धौले साधू आये गाँव में..."
"...धौले साधू?"
"...हाँ, धौले साधू. एक दिन सब गाँव वालों ने देखा, भरी बारिश में, दलदल पार करके, खड़े पानी पे बने एक बांस के पुल पे लटक कर आ रहे हैं धौले साधू. एक दम सफ़ेद रंग था, सुनहरे बाल...ये लम्बे चौड़े... अनजान कपडे पहने, अनजान भाषा बोलते, बड़े बड़े झोले कंधे पे लटकाए, आ पहुंचे बीमारी से भरे हमारे गाँव में.... पहले तो सब डर गए, कभी देखा जो ना था ऐसा रूप...मगर बाद में इच्छाधारी बाबा समझ उनके आशीर्वाद को पाने सब पास गए उनके. सबको गले लगाया उन्होंने... बूढों को, बच्चों को... सबकी छाती पे सलीब की निशान बनाया.... प्रभु का प्रसाद सबको खाने को दिया. धीरे धीरे गाँव में सब चंगे हो गए. जो गुज़र गए वो गुज़र गए... बाकी सब धौले बाबा के भगत हो गए. गाँव में ही कुटिया बना के रहने लगे हम सब के बीच वो..."
"... धीरे धीरे हमारी भाषा सीखे वो और हम बच्चों को अपनी भाषा सिखाये....जानता है कौन थे धौले साधू?"
"... कौन?"
"...जिनको तू क्रिश्चियन मिशनरी कहता है ना, वो.."
"... आज उन्हीं की वजह से मैं और मेरी बहन जिंदा हैं... प्रभु येशु के आशीर्वाद से... आज तेरे साथ जो इस कॉलेज में पढ़ रहा हूँ ना, कभी सात पुश्तों में भी सोच नहीं सकता था मेरे गाँव का कोई लड़का... मेरी बहन ऑस्ट्रेलिया में है... फाइन आर्ट सीख रही है... बापू को मिशन की पेंशन है... गाँव में स्कूल है, क्लिनिक है... सब जिंदा हैं...खुश हैं...चर्च जाते हैं, प्रभु के गीत गाते हैं... बाकी गाँवों में येशु के वचनों का प्रचार करते हैं... क्या गलत है ये?"
"....हाँ, मुझ से ज्यादा मेरे बापू को चुभता है की अपने सरना धरम को छोड़ना पड़ा, अपनी पहचान, अपनी आस .. अब जंगल के देवों को नहीं पूज पाते हैं ना वो, पाप जो है... लेकिन बच्चों की ख़ुशी में खुश रहते हैं..."
आदित्य एक टक किशन को देखे जा रहा था.
"...अगर धौले साधू की जगह कोई मेरे जैसा आ जाता, सांवला... मूरख सा... तेरे गाँव... दवा, कपडे और किताबें लिए, और तुझे गले लगा के कहता कि, किशन, ले तेरे लिए तेरे धरम का भाई सब कुछ लाया है, तुझे अब ज़रुरत नहीं है अपना धरम अपनी पहचान अपनी इज्ज़त छोड़ने की....तो क्या तू रुक जाता, क्रिश्चयन ना बनता?...."
"... क्यूँ बनता? कोई आता धौले साधू से पहले हमारे लिए, तो क्यूँ बनता? ...मगर आता क्या तू? ... आते ये सब, जो खड़े हैं चुपचाप यहाँ?...बोल?"
* * *
पांच साल बीत गए हैं, मैनें वोही किया जो मैं हमेशा करना चाहता था ... लिखा.. ये, वो, यहाँ, वहां, सब कुछ लिखा.. अब भी लिख रहा हूँ... शायद आगे भी लिखता ही रहूँगा...जो मन में आएगा सब...
विकास? विकास भी हैं हम सबके बीच यहीं... एम एन सी में बड़ा मेनेजर है.... दस लाख का पॅकेज है... बहुत मेहनती है, सबको पता है कि बहुत आगे जाएगा... एक दिन अपने देश कि इकोनोमिक प्रोग्रेस की कहानी जब सुनाई जायेगी तो विकास का नाम भी शामिल होगा उसमें... कॉरपोरेट सितारा जो है मेरा दोस्त...
किशन चला गया यू एस... पिछले से पिछले साल. कभी कभार ई मेल आ जाता है उसका... आगे पढाई करने गया था... अब अच्छी नौकरी लग गयी है.... बहुत खुश है.... बहन और बापू को भी वहीँ बुला लिया है उसने... कहता है, अब लौटेगा नहीं. वहीँ बस जाएगा...
एक बस आदित्य ही है जिसका कोई पता नहीं... कहाँ है? क्या कर रहा है? कुछ नहीं पता. कॉलेज की पढाई ख़तम करने के बाद ही घर छोड़ के चला गया था... में तब मिला था उस से... कह रहा था की आर एस एस का प्रोजेक्ट है कोई वनवासी इलाकों में, बीहड़ जगहों में जा के लोगों से मिलने का, उनकी मदद करने का, दवा, कपडे, अनाज गाँव गाँव में पहुंचाने का ... बोला ज़िन्दगी भर यही करूंगा... यही मकसद है लाइफ में... घर वालों ने तो समझाने में कोई कसर नहीं छोड़ी, मैनें भी बहुत समझाया... लेकिन एक ही रट लगा रखी थी उसने
"... उन्हें मेरी ज़रुरत है, मुझे उनकी ज़रुरत है....
...उन्हें मेरी ज़रुरत है, मुझे उनकी ज़रुरत है..."
...ना जाने क्या घुट्टी पिलाते हैं ये... इंसान का नमूना बना देते हैं....
* * *
आदित्य कि आँखें विस्मय से फटी जा रहीं थीं.
"किशन?... अपना किशन?"
"नहीं, ऐसा नहीं हो सकता यार...!"
आदित्य बार बार एक ही बात कहे जा रहा था.
"ऐसा ही है. तू मान या न मान... और..नहीं भी मानेगा तो क्या फरक पड़ेगा?"
विकास ने ठंडी आवाज़ में आदित्य को समझाने कि आखिरी कोशिश की. उसे समझ नहीं आ रहा था कि आदित्य इतना क्यूँ भड़क रहा था. मैनें तो चुप रहने में ही अपनी भलाई समझी.
"अबे, मुझे भी अजीब ज़रूर लगा था मगर तू तो पागल सा ही हो गया..! ठीक है, तू अब तक उसे अपने जैसा समझ रहा था मगर उसने तो कभी नहीं कहा कि वो हिन्दू है. हम सब के साथ रहता है, पढता है, खेलता है, तेरे साथ रात भर बाईक पर आवारागर्दी करता है... कभी शक ही नहीं हुआ कि वो क्रिश्चियन है. नाम भी तो हिन्दुओं जैसा है उसका... लेकिन क्या फरक पड़ता है? उसने तो कभी झूठ नहीं कहा ना... अबे, क्रिश्चियन भी हो तो है तो अपना दोस्त ही ना.."
"...मगर..."
"...छोड़ ना अब.. चल कैंटीन चलते हैं...पेट में कब से चूहे दौड़ रहे हैं...कुछ नहीं रखा इस फालतू कि बहस में."
विकास ने पेट पर हाथ फेरते हुए नाटकीय अंदाज़ में कहा.
"...खाओ, पीओ, करो आनंद...कह गए भाई परमानन्द.."
"..चल.."
मैनें आदित्य को लगभग बाहर धक्का देते हुए कहा. इसकी बहसबाजी से ना जाने कितनी बार दिमाग का दही करवा चुका हूँ.
विकास फिर भी ठीक था. ज्यादा टेंशन नहीं लेता था. और ना ही उसे पोलिटिक्स, धरम वरम कि बातों में कोई इंटेरेस्ट था. लेकिन आदित्य पक्का देशभक्त. स्वयं को समाज सुधारक समझते थे जनाब. बचपन में पिताजी आर. एस. एस. कि शाखा में क्या ले गए, एक एक करके निक्कर धारियों के सारे कैंप अटेंड कर आये बरखुरदार. अब ना जाने क्या घुट्टी पिलाते हैं ये शाखा वाले ये तो वोही जाने मगर सच ये है कि इंसान का नमूना बना देते हैं.
* * *
हुआ यूँ कि कल मैं और विकास लोधी रोड पर तफरी मार रहे थे. सन्डे जो था. आई एच सी में एक प्ले लगा था. हमने सोचा चलो प्ले भी देख लेंगे और लंच भी बाहर हो जाएगा. आखिर सन्डे को हॉस्टल में तो खाना मिलने से रहा. मगर जैसे ही लोधी रोड पर टर्न लिया, क्या देखते हैं कि मेथोडिस्ट चर्च के बाहर किशन खड़ा है. आनन फानन में ब्रेक लगाया और बाईक घुमा ली.
"अरे किशन तू क्या कर रहा है यहाँ?"
हमको यूँ आसमान से टपकता देख, किशन सकपका सा गया.
"...तुम?! ..यहाँ?!"
"..अरे हम तो यूँ ही भटक रहे हैं भाई, मगर तू क्या कर रहा है यहाँ?"
"...मैं? मैं तो... हर सन्डे आता हूँ... यहाँ.."
"..क्यूँ?"
"..क्यूँ क्या? आता हूँ ..बस.."
"..अबे लडकियां ताड़ने आता है क्या?"
हम भी कहाँ छोड़ने वाले थे किशन को. टांग खींचने कि पुरानी आदत जो ठहरी.
"..बता"
"..प्रेयर करने आता हूँ... गुनाह है क्या?
किशन के चेहरे से घबराहट साफ़ झलक रही थी. मगर आवाज़ में खीज के साथ गुस्सा भी था.
"...प्रेयर करने आता हूँ.."
एक पल के लिए तो हमें झटका सा लगा था. मगर अगले ही पल तस्वीर साफ़ हो गयी थी. हम तो यही सोचे बैठे थे कि ऐसे ही आया होगा चर्च... कभी ख़याल ही नहीं आया कि किशन अलग धरम का होगा...
"...ओह. ओके..सॉरी.."
इतना ही कह पाए हम. समझ ही नहीं आया क्या कहें.
"...चल, ठीक है मिलते हैं फिर.."
औपचारिकता पूरी कर, हम वहां से निकल आये. देखा भी नहीं किशन को मुड़ कर दोबारा. ना प्ले देखने कि इच्छा हुई ना ही भूख लगने के आसार थे सो चुपचाप वापस हॉस्टल लौट आये. कुछ घंटों तक चुप रहे, सोचते रहे. फिर लगा क्या फरक पड़ता है. हिन्दू हो या क्रिश्चियन... है तो किशन हमारा दोस्त ही ना.
पर ये तो मैं और विकास थे जो सदमे से जल्दी उबर गए थे. आदित्य कि बात अलग थी... पक्का देशभक्त जो समझता था खुद को वो...
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"अभी रात को उसके रूम पे जा के बात करूंगा उस से..."
सामने चाय के साथ मैगी कि प्लेट रखी थी फिर भी आदित्य कि बकवास बंद नहीं हुई. हाँ, बकवास ही थी, और क्या?
इतनी बार समझा लिया कि भाई, क्यूँ टेंशन ले रहा है - क्या बिगड़ गया तेरा. मगर लगता है कि टूटे रिकॉर्ड कि तरह अटक गया है ये.
"अरे, है क्रिश्चियन तो होता रहे मगर छुपाने का क्या मतलब है?"
"अरे धरम बदल रहे हो तो कम से कम हिम्मत से कहो तो तो सही कि हाँ जी, हमने अपना धरम बदल लिया...कर लो जो करना है.."
"मगर इतनी हिम्मत होती तो इन मिशनरीज़ के बहकावे में आते ही क्यूँ?
"अभी रात को उसके रूम पे जा के पूछूंगा..."
काफी देर तक तो विकास चुप बैठा रहा. जल्दी गुस्सा नहीं आता है उसे. लेकिन अचानक भड़क गया वो.
"दिमाग खराब है क्या? एक घंटे से बकवास किये जा रहा है...! जैसे क्रिश्चियन होना कोई जुर्म है..! इंडिया है ये. सेकुलर है... समझा तू? सेकुलर. सब बराबर हैं. तेरी तरह जात धरम में बांटा नहीं जाता यहाँ लोगों को. और तुझे तो अफगानिस्तान में पैदा होना चाहिए था. तू... तालिबान है..! समझा? हिन्दू तालिबान... ब्लडी एक्सट्रीमिस्ट!"
"और अगर तूने कोई फ़ालतू बात किशन से करी तो देख लियो..!"
आदित्य को धमकी देता हुआ, उठ के चला गया विकास कैंटीन से. कभी कभार ही इतना गुस्सा आता है उसे. मगर ठीक ही तो कह गया था वो. मन ही मन विकास को असली देशभक्त मानता था मैं. आदित्य कि बातें पिछड़ी, गंवारू और पोंगापंथी मालुम होती थीं.
फिर भी में आदित्य के साथ ही बैठा रहा. मुझे लगा कहीं अकेले जा के किशन को कुछ उल्टा सीधा ना बोल दे. तरस आ रहा था किशन पर अब मुझे. और आदित्य पर गुस्सा.
मेरी चाय ख़तम हो चुकी थी पर आदित्य कि जस कि तस पड़ी हुई थी. मैगी भी सारी मैनें ही ख़तम की थी. जैसे जैसे शाम ढलने लगी वैसे वैसे कैंटीन में लड़की-लड़कों कि भीड़ बढ़ने लगी. मंडे ईवनिंग थी. लगभग सारे अच्छे लेक्चर्स मंडे को ही होते थे. इसलिए कैंटीन में भी बात-चीत के शोर में सोशल साइंस और इकोनोमिक्स की झलक नज़र आ रही थी. माहौल थोडा सामान्य लगा तो दिल को भी थोडा सुकून मिला. आदित्य चुपचाप ज़मीन को घूरे जा रहा था. कम से कम चुप तो था.
इतने में क्या देखता हूँ कि सामने से किशन आ रहा है. हमारी ही तरफ. चेहरा उसका गंभीर लग रहा था. मैनें नज़र दूसरी तरफ घुमा ली. ना जाने क्या बोले किशन...
"दादा..!"
मुझे दादा ही बोलते थे ये सारे. शायद सारे बांग्ला-भाषियों को दादा ही बोला जाता है यहाँ दिल्ली में.
"...अरे.. किशन?"
"...तू कब आया?"
"..अभी.."
"..आ,..बैठ.."
"नहीं. तुम तीनों से कुछ बात करनी है. रूम पे चलोगे मेरे?.. या यहीं....कर लें..?"
परेशान लग रहा था किशन.
"हाँ..हाँ.. चल रूम पे चलते हैं..."
मैनें जल्दी जल्दी उठते हुए कहा.
"..आदित्य?"
"..चलें क्या.."
अब भी ज़मीन में देख रहा था आदित्य.
"...क्यूँ? रूम पे क्यूँ? यहीं बात कर लेते हैं श्री किशन मुंडा जी से.."
उसकी आवाज़ में जो उपहास छुपा था वो मुझे कतई अच्छा नहीं लगा.
"...अबे कह रहा है तो रूम पे चल लेते हैं, कोई ज़रूरी बात होगी तभी तो कह रहा है..."
"...नहीं! बात होगी, तो यहीं होगी...दादा!"
आदित्य ने नज़र उठा कर किशन कि तरफ देखा. इस बार उसकी आवाज़ नरम थी मगर शब्द फिर भी कठोर के कठोर.
"...बैठ किशन"
"...आदित्य.. यार..."
किशन फुसफुसाया
"...मैं जानता हूँ कि मुझ को चर्च में देख कर तुम लोगों को अजीब लगा होगा..मगर..."
"...मगर क्या?"
"...सॉरी यार..कभी बताया नहीं तुम लोगों को... कभी ज़रुरत ही नहीं लगी...और फिर डर भी तो था... क्या मालूम क्या समझते तुम लोग.. खासकर तू.."
"खासकर में..?"
"हाँ..वो... तू... आर एस एस में जाता है ना..."
"लेकिन किशन, तू क्यूँ कन्वर्ट हुआ? ...क्यूँ यार? ...क्या प्रॉब्लम थी?..तू बता मुझे.... किसने इन फालतू चीज़ों में फसाया? .."
आदित्य बिलकुल सेंटी हो गया था. लग रहा था जैसे उसका भाई बिछड़ रहा हो सामने के सामने.
"तू बोल किशन यार... कौन लोग हैं ये...जिन्होंने तुझे ऐसे फसाया... मैं मदद करूंगा यार अगर कुछ प्रॉब्लम है .. फॅमिली में.. मगर ऐसे चक्कर में मत आ यार.."
इधर किशन चुप था. आदित्य का रीएक्शन देख कर. उधर आदित्य कि आँखें नाम हुई जा रही थीं. शायद बिना वजह.
"मुझे पता है... ज़रूर कोई मजबूरी होगी तेरी किशन... नहीं तो कोई कोई अपना धरम, अपना कल्चर थोड़े ही छोड़ देता है... लेकिन में हूँ ना, मुझे अपना भाई समझ, मुझे बता क्या प्रॉब्लम है..."
यकायक, किशन कुछ कहने को हुआ मगर उसकी आवाज़ भर्रा गई.
"...आदित्य, तू नहीं जानता..."
लगा कि किशन अभी रो ही देगा. न जाने क्या हो रहा था यहाँ. मैं कन्फ्यूज्ड था. आसपास कुछ लोग खड़े नज़र आ रहे थे. शोर कम हो चुका था. विकास भी ना जाने कब से मेरे पीछे खड़ा सब सुन रहा था. छोटी सी बात अब छोटी नहीं रही थी. शायद.
"...आदित्य, तू नहीं जानता..."
"...मेरे गाँव में...,उलहातु के पास गाँव है मेरा, ... सुना है कभी उलहातु?.."
"..नहीं"
"...झारखंड के बीहड़ में है...."
"....बारिश में मेरे गाँव आ नहीं सकता है तेरे जैसा कोई.. जानता है क्यूँ?"
"..नहीं"
"....तीन तरफ खड़ा पानी है, एक तरफ जंगल. एक बांस कि पुलिया है गाँव में आने के लिए...बांस पे लटक के आना पड़ता है..."
"मुंडा हूँ मैं... बिरसा मुंडा के गोत्र का... मेरे बापू बिरसा मुंडा कि तरह सरना धरम मानते थे... उनके बापू, मेरे बाबा, बताया करते थे सरना धरम के बारे में हमको...सदियों से चला आ रहा है सरना धरम मुंडा लोगों में. धरती अम्मा को, जंगल के देवों को मानते थे हम लोग. पोखरों में धान बो लेते थे. झाड़ियों से बेर और कभी मछली मिले तो मछली और हिरना मिले तो हिरना, पकड़ लाते. फिर भी भोग लगाते कभी महुआ के देवता को तो कभी पहाड़ी के देवता को. धान कटता तो, गोद भरती गाँव में किसी बहना की या बाबा सामान कोई बड़ा बूढा चल बसता तो भी कभी जंगल के देवों को भूले नहीं मुंडा लोग....बांस की झोंपड़ियों में रहते सब और मिट्टी से आँगन लीप लेते..."
किशन के मुहं से निकला एक एक शब्द इतना गहरा था की सब के सब खो गए थे. एकदम सन्नाटा था अब.
"....जब चार बरस का था में तब गाँव में बीमारी फैली थी... सब घरों से कोई ना कोई बीमारी की भेंट चढ़ गया... मेरे घर से मेरी माँ और दो बहनें..."
"...बाबा कहते थे की सौ साल पहले साधू बाबा आये थे गाँव में. रामायण, भागवत की कथा सुनाया करते थे... गाँव में ही रह गए थे और वहीँ समाधी ले गए...कहते थे, सारे मुंडा लोग किशन भगवान् को बहुत प्यारे लगते हैं...इसीलिए मेरा नाम किशन रखा था बाबा ने...."
"....तब से कोई नहीं आया था गाँव...जब बीमारी फैली तब भी सबको लगता था की कौन आएगा अब... जंगल के देवों का ही सहारा था....लेकिन वो भी ना रीझे... भोग लगाया था हमेशा फिर भी...लेकिन एक दिन धौले साधू आये गाँव में..."
"...धौले साधू?"
"...हाँ, धौले साधू. एक दिन सब गाँव वालों ने देखा, भरी बारिश में, दलदल पार करके, खड़े पानी पे बने एक बांस के पुल पे लटक कर आ रहे हैं धौले साधू. एक दम सफ़ेद रंग था, सुनहरे बाल...ये लम्बे चौड़े... अनजान कपडे पहने, अनजान भाषा बोलते, बड़े बड़े झोले कंधे पे लटकाए, आ पहुंचे बीमारी से भरे हमारे गाँव में.... पहले तो सब डर गए, कभी देखा जो ना था ऐसा रूप...मगर बाद में इच्छाधारी बाबा समझ उनके आशीर्वाद को पाने सब पास गए उनके. सबको गले लगाया उन्होंने... बूढों को, बच्चों को... सबकी छाती पे सलीब की निशान बनाया.... प्रभु का प्रसाद सबको खाने को दिया. धीरे धीरे गाँव में सब चंगे हो गए. जो गुज़र गए वो गुज़र गए... बाकी सब धौले बाबा के भगत हो गए. गाँव में ही कुटिया बना के रहने लगे हम सब के बीच वो..."
"... धीरे धीरे हमारी भाषा सीखे वो और हम बच्चों को अपनी भाषा सिखाये....जानता है कौन थे धौले साधू?"
"... कौन?"
"...जिनको तू क्रिश्चियन मिशनरी कहता है ना, वो.."
"... आज उन्हीं की वजह से मैं और मेरी बहन जिंदा हैं... प्रभु येशु के आशीर्वाद से... आज तेरे साथ जो इस कॉलेज में पढ़ रहा हूँ ना, कभी सात पुश्तों में भी सोच नहीं सकता था मेरे गाँव का कोई लड़का... मेरी बहन ऑस्ट्रेलिया में है... फाइन आर्ट सीख रही है... बापू को मिशन की पेंशन है... गाँव में स्कूल है, क्लिनिक है... सब जिंदा हैं...खुश हैं...चर्च जाते हैं, प्रभु के गीत गाते हैं... बाकी गाँवों में येशु के वचनों का प्रचार करते हैं... क्या गलत है ये?"
"....हाँ, मुझ से ज्यादा मेरे बापू को चुभता है की अपने सरना धरम को छोड़ना पड़ा, अपनी पहचान, अपनी आस .. अब जंगल के देवों को नहीं पूज पाते हैं ना वो, पाप जो है... लेकिन बच्चों की ख़ुशी में खुश रहते हैं..."
आदित्य एक टक किशन को देखे जा रहा था.
"...अगर धौले साधू की जगह कोई मेरे जैसा आ जाता, सांवला... मूरख सा... तेरे गाँव... दवा, कपडे और किताबें लिए, और तुझे गले लगा के कहता कि, किशन, ले तेरे लिए तेरे धरम का भाई सब कुछ लाया है, तुझे अब ज़रुरत नहीं है अपना धरम अपनी पहचान अपनी इज्ज़त छोड़ने की....तो क्या तू रुक जाता, क्रिश्चयन ना बनता?...."
"... क्यूँ बनता? कोई आता धौले साधू से पहले हमारे लिए, तो क्यूँ बनता? ...मगर आता क्या तू? ... आते ये सब, जो खड़े हैं चुपचाप यहाँ?...बोल?"
* * *
पांच साल बीत गए हैं, मैनें वोही किया जो मैं हमेशा करना चाहता था ... लिखा.. ये, वो, यहाँ, वहां, सब कुछ लिखा.. अब भी लिख रहा हूँ... शायद आगे भी लिखता ही रहूँगा...जो मन में आएगा सब...
विकास? विकास भी हैं हम सबके बीच यहीं... एम एन सी में बड़ा मेनेजर है.... दस लाख का पॅकेज है... बहुत मेहनती है, सबको पता है कि बहुत आगे जाएगा... एक दिन अपने देश कि इकोनोमिक प्रोग्रेस की कहानी जब सुनाई जायेगी तो विकास का नाम भी शामिल होगा उसमें... कॉरपोरेट सितारा जो है मेरा दोस्त...
किशन चला गया यू एस... पिछले से पिछले साल. कभी कभार ई मेल आ जाता है उसका... आगे पढाई करने गया था... अब अच्छी नौकरी लग गयी है.... बहुत खुश है.... बहन और बापू को भी वहीँ बुला लिया है उसने... कहता है, अब लौटेगा नहीं. वहीँ बस जाएगा...
एक बस आदित्य ही है जिसका कोई पता नहीं... कहाँ है? क्या कर रहा है? कुछ नहीं पता. कॉलेज की पढाई ख़तम करने के बाद ही घर छोड़ के चला गया था... में तब मिला था उस से... कह रहा था की आर एस एस का प्रोजेक्ट है कोई वनवासी इलाकों में, बीहड़ जगहों में जा के लोगों से मिलने का, उनकी मदद करने का, दवा, कपडे, अनाज गाँव गाँव में पहुंचाने का ... बोला ज़िन्दगी भर यही करूंगा... यही मकसद है लाइफ में... घर वालों ने तो समझाने में कोई कसर नहीं छोड़ी, मैनें भी बहुत समझाया... लेकिन एक ही रट लगा रखी थी उसने
"... उन्हें मेरी ज़रुरत है, मुझे उनकी ज़रुरत है....
...उन्हें मेरी ज़रुरत है, मुझे उनकी ज़रुरत है..."
...ना जाने क्या घुट्टी पिलाते हैं ये... इंसान का नमूना बना देते हैं....
* * *
Friday, June 25, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
Bad decision!
Today something happened which made me feel disempowered, caged and sad. And although this blog is supposed to be transparent sans mercy yet I think I only have the right to describe those whom I love and trust. I really dont want to describe those who do not impact me much. So as it turned out today, an assignment that was undertaken was not done required justice which caused the 'client' undesired harassment and delay and because the 'client' was a dear one, he didnt complain all this while and maybe I was either too stupid or too indifferent to take proper notice of the situation. And therefore I cant escape the blame either. I said sorry and felt it too. And because they are good people and because I never intended to cause any discomfort, they'll forgive me in due course - i'm sure. And what lessons have i learnt today? Guess atleat three. One - Be more professional, two - analyze people in a better way before you trust them with a responsibility and three - be more sensitive to the people you really like.
This wont happen again. Sorry once again! Bad decision I guess.
This wont happen again. Sorry once again! Bad decision I guess.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Grumblings
Well, do I have any other place to speak up my mind? Hell no! Its crazy but true to a certain extent. This year has been quite an eye-opener, if I may call the shattering of my dreams as “eye-opening”. But here in our country we are so optimistic that we find something good in everything bad. Isn’t it? Kudos! But sometimes each of us allows ourselves an exception or two. And those are the times when we are true in our reactions. And those are the times when we’re really desperate, really in pain and really with no hope whatsoever. And those moments live on for a long time. So this year has brought me some of those much intense moments. At a first, j'ai proposé à la fille que j'ai aimé désespérément mais elle a refuse. Then, some terrible things happened at Helix which made us lose some of our valuable clients and made me lose a big chunk of my confidence. Things didn’t work out as I thought they will. My project refuses to become a reality, still, which has started to scare me now. And recently, I figured out that whatever I do; I can never make it for my masters. This time I had tried with all my strength. But I failed. Again. And I knew it was my last chance. So, with my heart filled of desperation and grief and with no courage to cry and shout aloud, I carried on. And I’m carrying on. But I’m scared that I still have a lot to be robbed off. I still have some dreams to get broken. So, what would I do? I’d spend more time with myself and with things and people who are really mine. I’m not sure if I really want to become a warrior at this point and fight all odds. I’d rather be a non entity and accept what comes. I’d rather pray to my lord. I’d rather say – ‘I can’t do it’ than say – ‘Ok, it looks challenging..let me try it’. I’d rather wake up to the real world devoid of fairy tales and charming dreams.
Hmm.. but on a second thought, I’d rather publish this post, pity myself a little more and then go back to do what I do best – dream new and fight afresh. These sad stories of failure, I think, fail to entice me for long. Darn! So, the next question is – what’s the backup plan baby? ;)
Hmm.. but on a second thought, I’d rather publish this post, pity myself a little more and then go back to do what I do best – dream new and fight afresh. These sad stories of failure, I think, fail to entice me for long. Darn! So, the next question is – what’s the backup plan baby? ;)
Sunday, May 2, 2010
A letter to Dada
Dear Dada
This is probably the first time I'm writing to you. I always wanted to but guess this is the first time I'm feeling so motivated. Let me tell you that almost everybody including me thinks that you are a great guy. You're a great guy not because they dont know much about you and hence give you a benefit of doubt but because what they know about you is enough for them to think so. And your qualities are well known and I see no point in repeating them once again. All I wish to tell you what I've read of you in an honest way. Professionally, you know more than many of us. You have worked on projects and you know the technicalities. You have developed some formidable concepts for interiors and I've personally loved the design of that Israeli telecom firm's office. It was outstanding. And I'm not lying. You have a potential of becoming one of the best as far as corporate interiors go. What you really still lack is professional confidence. You still need validation and you still need protection. Its about time you realized it. You are your own boss for the time being and I would love to see you being your own boss in future too. But you still need to realize it fully. Its not about working as a freelancer or working for another company. A boss is a boss everywhere. A boss would takes his own decisions. Well, if he needs professionally advice he would ask for it but then he would not be bound or overpowered by the advice. He would not take the advice on the face of it and conveniently shelve the responsibility on to the shoulders of the advisor. No. He would just thank the advisor and get on to his own business. Because the boss has the power to discard an advice if he finds it unsuitable. But then the boss holds the entire responsibilty of the consequences.
I know that you are such a nice and modest person that you would believe everything that I say here. But let me ask you not to believe me blindly. As a matter of fact I am an arrogant punjabi professional to an extent. I am trying to recover but there is still a long way to go. When we were doing the Arena project, I could not hold myself from thrusting my opinion on to you. I am really sorry for it. I forgot that it was your project and I should not have intefered in the design atleast. The problem is that I am too arogant and harsh and you are too soft and modest. Maybe we should share our qualities a bit :)
I would love to see you in charge of every aspect of the project. I have always felt that an architect is more than just a designer. He is a project manager, project planner, quality controller and a marketing executive. I would love to see you excel in each of these fields. Let me tell you a little secret rule of architectural practice in India - "Client is an ignorant baby god". Our job is to give him guardianship, give him confidence, make him aware about things and still obey him. Sounds tough but feels not once you're at it.
So you gotta move on. Be your own boss in real. Nobody will be there to bail you out everytime. So you need to bail you out yourself. Yes, I will be always there standing for you because you are my best friend. Whether we work together or not. But in a professional project that you concieve, nobody can help you beyond a limit.
Hope I made some sense although it has been somewhat a crazy time for me.
Love you Dada
This is probably the first time I'm writing to you. I always wanted to but guess this is the first time I'm feeling so motivated. Let me tell you that almost everybody including me thinks that you are a great guy. You're a great guy not because they dont know much about you and hence give you a benefit of doubt but because what they know about you is enough for them to think so. And your qualities are well known and I see no point in repeating them once again. All I wish to tell you what I've read of you in an honest way. Professionally, you know more than many of us. You have worked on projects and you know the technicalities. You have developed some formidable concepts for interiors and I've personally loved the design of that Israeli telecom firm's office. It was outstanding. And I'm not lying. You have a potential of becoming one of the best as far as corporate interiors go. What you really still lack is professional confidence. You still need validation and you still need protection. Its about time you realized it. You are your own boss for the time being and I would love to see you being your own boss in future too. But you still need to realize it fully. Its not about working as a freelancer or working for another company. A boss is a boss everywhere. A boss would takes his own decisions. Well, if he needs professionally advice he would ask for it but then he would not be bound or overpowered by the advice. He would not take the advice on the face of it and conveniently shelve the responsibility on to the shoulders of the advisor. No. He would just thank the advisor and get on to his own business. Because the boss has the power to discard an advice if he finds it unsuitable. But then the boss holds the entire responsibilty of the consequences.
I know that you are such a nice and modest person that you would believe everything that I say here. But let me ask you not to believe me blindly. As a matter of fact I am an arrogant punjabi professional to an extent. I am trying to recover but there is still a long way to go. When we were doing the Arena project, I could not hold myself from thrusting my opinion on to you. I am really sorry for it. I forgot that it was your project and I should not have intefered in the design atleast. The problem is that I am too arogant and harsh and you are too soft and modest. Maybe we should share our qualities a bit :)
I would love to see you in charge of every aspect of the project. I have always felt that an architect is more than just a designer. He is a project manager, project planner, quality controller and a marketing executive. I would love to see you excel in each of these fields. Let me tell you a little secret rule of architectural practice in India - "Client is an ignorant baby god". Our job is to give him guardianship, give him confidence, make him aware about things and still obey him. Sounds tough but feels not once you're at it.
So you gotta move on. Be your own boss in real. Nobody will be there to bail you out everytime. So you need to bail you out yourself. Yes, I will be always there standing for you because you are my best friend. Whether we work together or not. But in a professional project that you concieve, nobody can help you beyond a limit.
Hope I made some sense although it has been somewhat a crazy time for me.
Love you Dada
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Some extreme shit...
पूर्णिमा के चन्द्रमा का पूर्ण छेदन कर दिया,
गुदा भेदी बाण से जो गुदा भेदन कर दिया.
प्रबल यौवन के शिखर पर अप्सरा थी जो खड़ी,
कुसुम कोमल अप्सरा का गर्व भंजन कर दिया.
गुदा भेदी बाण से जो गुदा भेदन कर दिया.
प्रबल यौवन के शिखर पर अप्सरा थी जो खड़ी,
कुसुम कोमल अप्सरा का गर्व भंजन कर दिया.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Emerging Market and the Architect
India, no doubt, is a hub of opportunities right now but the opportunities come with the difficulties of an emerging market. Consumer has more purchasing power than ever before as far as products are concerned but he is still not developed enough to shell out money to hire professionals. Because for a serving middle class, paying for a service is still a big deal. It is only when the class changes that the awareness through peers brings about a change in the attitudes. But I'm glad that the scenario is changing for the architect. Ten years back the concept of hiring an architect was limited to the public and big business institutions and that is why the practice of architecture was quite underdeveloped in India.
This can explain the exclusion of India from the race of Modernism in Architecture in the past decades. And this is true for all developing economies excpet those which either stuck to their colonial past by virtue of their racial proximity like Brazil and Mexico or those which upheld and embraced the ideals of capitalism and open market and in-turn got rewarded by the riches of Modern Architecture like Japan, Korea and Singapore.
And now as India enthusiastically and forcefully enters the global market economy, its middle class aspires to have more. Unfortunately the middle class of an emerging market is often compared of that of a mature market, which I feel is unjustified. Infact the upper class of an emerging market is equivalent of the middle class of a mature market. So, it is still hard for a vast majority of Indian Upper Middle and Upper class to patronize architects and get a "designer home" for themselves. They are still more than happy to pretend that they know everything and spending on an architect is foolishness. Because, infact, this is their real class exactly - middle, mediocre and, in harsher words, cattle.
<190420100942>
This can explain the exclusion of India from the race of Modernism in Architecture in the past decades. And this is true for all developing economies excpet those which either stuck to their colonial past by virtue of their racial proximity like Brazil and Mexico or those which upheld and embraced the ideals of capitalism and open market and in-turn got rewarded by the riches of Modern Architecture like Japan, Korea and Singapore.
And now as India enthusiastically and forcefully enters the global market economy, its middle class aspires to have more. Unfortunately the middle class of an emerging market is often compared of that of a mature market, which I feel is unjustified. Infact the upper class of an emerging market is equivalent of the middle class of a mature market. So, it is still hard for a vast majority of Indian Upper Middle and Upper class to patronize architects and get a "designer home" for themselves. They are still more than happy to pretend that they know everything and spending on an architect is foolishness. Because, infact, this is their real class exactly - middle, mediocre and, in harsher words, cattle.
<190420100942>
Saturday, April 10, 2010
To my "secular" friend...
I know it is politically incorrect to bring up so called political debates in front of you because you are least interested in all this crap – as you might like to put it. But unfortunately, I couldn’t help but bring forth this issue. Maybe my birth into a family which had an opinion on each and every thing is to be blamed. I must confess that before I started to pronounce ‘daddy’ I was expected to have an opinion on ‘Islamic Terrorism’. Most radicals I’ve met were either reasonably rational or ‘opinion-less’ before graduating to extremism. But for me it was quite opposite. I was more extreme in my views on politics and society when I was 12. It could sound funny but my ‘aim of life’ used to be to kill at-least one muslim. Since then as I got introduced to different people and their points of view, and later as I travelled and read and analyzed more and more, I kind of became more rational, reasonable and logical. And it was when I broadly figured out how the world operates. And it was also when I figured out that neither morality nor logic nor can power alone govern human behavior. Human behavior – as an individual and as a group is guided by host of genetic, environmental, instinctive, biological and social factors. And believe me, it is mind boggling. It sometimes even forces me to go back from the theory of evolution to the theories of intelligent design and intelligent transplant. But that’s altogether a different subject.
At this juncture, I’d like to share some of my experiences and thoughts with you. And I will not ask you why you call yourself secular because I know that you don’t know a shit about secularism. You merely say this word because everybody else does. I also know that what you actually want to convey is that you are tolerant, peaceful and treat other religions with same respect and warmth as your own. You know that people of faith are right in their paths of seeking solace in God. You know that all spiritual paths eventually lead to God. And you don’t reject a person merely because his way of worship is different than yours. What you actually want to convey is that you believe in equality and compassion of all human beings. And you’re absolutely right. Absolutely! But have you ever thought who taught you all this? How come your vision is so broad? How come you are so aware and so enlightened? Have you ever thought? Tell me honestly. If not then let me throw some light. It is by virtue of you being an Indian, born into this civilization, born into one of the Indian families with such values, born into this magnificent tradition, born on this spectacular land that you are so tolerant, so content, so clear and so true in your thoughts. In simple words, you were born enlightened.
Let me tell you that you have a recorded history of at least 10,000 years behind you. Your ancestors developed these values of tolerance and compassion much before the first European started to eat the cooked food. You knew that trees have life before you were taught this officially. When people tell you that wild animals must not be killed and rivers must be preserved you are not surprised because this is no new information for you. It’s a way of life for you. It’s a way of life for you to look after your parents, touch feet of elders, treat your sister as an equal, marry only once and respect your spouse, take care of your children throughout your life. It’s a way of life for you to pay respect to the forces of nature and to personify the good things into gods and goddesses and in-turn aspire to imbibe those good things in yourself. It’s a way of life for you to be aware that you are more than a biological body. You are a manifestation of all those good qualities which you call God. It’s a way of life for you to be aware that you have an opportunity to make yourself a better human being in this life so that you could be born as a refined being in your next birth and you hope to achieve the perfect bliss after you have risen to that level that you don’t need to take any more births. It’s a way of life for you. That is how you are Indian or Hindu. Did you know that Hindu means Indian? Do you know that before Persians told us that they call us Hindus – or people of Indus – people living on the other side of river Indus, we never even used the term. We called ourselves Aryas or Bharateeyas. We didn’t have religions because everybody had the same way of life. Yes we had different sects – Vaishnavas, Shaakts, Shaivas and others but we always had some underlying unity and sense of being one people. It was foreigners who coined the term Hinduism or Indian-ness and this how they described our collective values.
Practically, it was only after Muslims invaded our country and settled in large numbers that the concept of ‘us’ and ‘them’ emerged. All other invaders preceding Muslims either left with our riches or settled and lost their identity in our great Indian Diaspora thereby becoming an inseparable part of us. But with Muslims, it was different. They were not just random tribals. They were a force with clear political and social agenda guided by the Caliphate of Arabia. I must objectively state that I’d not be exaggerating if I say that the Muslim invaders killed at-least 20% of the Indian population mercilessly and forced another 30% to convert to Islam in due course. Yes, it is true that we Indians, in absence of single political entity and in over-abundance our liberal values, lost out to the Muslims who ruled large parts of our country for many centuries. But still we struggled and managed to preserve our culture and traditions unlike other preys of Muslim aggression like Persia, Afghanistan, Egypt, Algeria, Sudan, Turkey, Spain, Israel, Lebanon, Syria, Libya, Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan, Kirgizstan to name a few who lost all of their identities to Islam.
Well, British colonizers succeeded Muslim rulers in our country and rest is well known to you because it is taught extensively in our text books. And eventually after nearly a millennium of foreign rule we finally liberated ourselves in the year 1947. And then we gave ourselves a really good constitution that clearly reflected our values as a civilization. But as it turned out, Muslims living in India wanted a separate country for themselves. And it came as a surprise and shock to us. Maybe we had started to expect a certain behavior from them. We wanted them to think like us – act like us – be like us. Tolerant and compassionate. I understand that this is quite natural. It is difficult not to expect good things from others. But others might have limitations. Others might not have the legacy of thousands of years of evolved civilization. Others might be still primitive in their views. It is sometimes hard to understand the limitations of others. Why an African kid takes double the time solving the same math problem as compared to his Indian classmate can explain the power of developed intellectual faculties by virtue of being a part of a glorious past.
That the Muslims of India and elsewhere are still guided by a single book and a single prophet is a fact. That they have a distinct identity which is superior to the identity they inherit as citizens of a particular country and which they want to protect at any cost is a fact. That the moderate voices amongst them turn out to be either too timid or too few is a fact. That they would require another 500 years to realize the tenets of mutual respect, tolerance and harmony, too, is a fact sadly. The time when a common Muslim man would dare say that all paths lead to God and there is no harm in having diversity of cultures and faiths, the time when a Muslim living in India would dare say that he is proud to be a successor of our glorious tradition of several thousand years is still far away. Just like you, I too, wish that the realization may come to them sooner than we expect but my problem is what do I do now? Today? This year? In the next 50 years? Can I let somebody else’s ignorance ruin my freedom, my rights, my security, my culture, future of my children and sovereignty of my country? Okay, I might have a moral responsibility to enlighten others who are intellectually deprived but at what cost? Should I keep fooling myself that no more Pakistans will be carved out again? Different identity would require different country again. It is just a matter of numbers. Suppose, Muslims outnumber Indians in this country, what value system will prevail? Obviously the value system of the majority community. Would I want my future generations to slave again for Muslims? My answer is - no. No. How can I let that happen? Why shouldn’t the better value system prevail? Can I afford to lose my glorious tradition to some stupid, barbaric and primitive ideology? My answer is – no.
I want you to know this fact – India is liberal, democratic and tolerant only because we are in majority – we Indians – we Hindus, as we are known today. We are the messengers and torch bearers of superior cultural values. If we lose our political and demographic ground to Muslims, these values will go down with us. Is this what you want? I hope not.
And yes, about you proclaiming yourself “secular”, let me tell you that prior to 1st April 1977, India was not a “secular” republic. The word “secular” was inserted in the Preamble of the Constitution of India vide 42nd amendment during Emergency imposed by Mrs Indira Gandhi. This act was done undemocratically and illegally, as everyone knows, and today the bloody word has become so fashionable among our shameless political class that anyone who opposes the injustice of extending extra constitutional privileges to the Muslims like reservations in jobs and education, pensions, grants and Haj subsidies is quickly termed as non-secular. So, unless you plan to contest elections next year and hope to seduce the Muslim vote bank, please refrain from using the dirty “s” word. It will serve nothing except making you prone to being used and being fooled. India is NOT secular and neither should it be. Our motto is Satyameva Jayate and not Allah-o-akbar. Our song is Vande mataram and not Bismillah-o-rahman-ar-rahim, our symbol is Dharma-chakra and not ‘crescent with a star’, our armies still refrain from recruiting muslims for good and our national language is Hindi not Urdu. We are fighting Islamic terrorism everyday. Secular is nothing. It’s a farce. Beware.
Good Luck.
~<100420101438>
At this juncture, I’d like to share some of my experiences and thoughts with you. And I will not ask you why you call yourself secular because I know that you don’t know a shit about secularism. You merely say this word because everybody else does. I also know that what you actually want to convey is that you are tolerant, peaceful and treat other religions with same respect and warmth as your own. You know that people of faith are right in their paths of seeking solace in God. You know that all spiritual paths eventually lead to God. And you don’t reject a person merely because his way of worship is different than yours. What you actually want to convey is that you believe in equality and compassion of all human beings. And you’re absolutely right. Absolutely! But have you ever thought who taught you all this? How come your vision is so broad? How come you are so aware and so enlightened? Have you ever thought? Tell me honestly. If not then let me throw some light. It is by virtue of you being an Indian, born into this civilization, born into one of the Indian families with such values, born into this magnificent tradition, born on this spectacular land that you are so tolerant, so content, so clear and so true in your thoughts. In simple words, you were born enlightened.
Let me tell you that you have a recorded history of at least 10,000 years behind you. Your ancestors developed these values of tolerance and compassion much before the first European started to eat the cooked food. You knew that trees have life before you were taught this officially. When people tell you that wild animals must not be killed and rivers must be preserved you are not surprised because this is no new information for you. It’s a way of life for you. It’s a way of life for you to look after your parents, touch feet of elders, treat your sister as an equal, marry only once and respect your spouse, take care of your children throughout your life. It’s a way of life for you to pay respect to the forces of nature and to personify the good things into gods and goddesses and in-turn aspire to imbibe those good things in yourself. It’s a way of life for you to be aware that you are more than a biological body. You are a manifestation of all those good qualities which you call God. It’s a way of life for you to be aware that you have an opportunity to make yourself a better human being in this life so that you could be born as a refined being in your next birth and you hope to achieve the perfect bliss after you have risen to that level that you don’t need to take any more births. It’s a way of life for you. That is how you are Indian or Hindu. Did you know that Hindu means Indian? Do you know that before Persians told us that they call us Hindus – or people of Indus – people living on the other side of river Indus, we never even used the term. We called ourselves Aryas or Bharateeyas. We didn’t have religions because everybody had the same way of life. Yes we had different sects – Vaishnavas, Shaakts, Shaivas and others but we always had some underlying unity and sense of being one people. It was foreigners who coined the term Hinduism or Indian-ness and this how they described our collective values.
Practically, it was only after Muslims invaded our country and settled in large numbers that the concept of ‘us’ and ‘them’ emerged. All other invaders preceding Muslims either left with our riches or settled and lost their identity in our great Indian Diaspora thereby becoming an inseparable part of us. But with Muslims, it was different. They were not just random tribals. They were a force with clear political and social agenda guided by the Caliphate of Arabia. I must objectively state that I’d not be exaggerating if I say that the Muslim invaders killed at-least 20% of the Indian population mercilessly and forced another 30% to convert to Islam in due course. Yes, it is true that we Indians, in absence of single political entity and in over-abundance our liberal values, lost out to the Muslims who ruled large parts of our country for many centuries. But still we struggled and managed to preserve our culture and traditions unlike other preys of Muslim aggression like Persia, Afghanistan, Egypt, Algeria, Sudan, Turkey, Spain, Israel, Lebanon, Syria, Libya, Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan, Kirgizstan to name a few who lost all of their identities to Islam.
Well, British colonizers succeeded Muslim rulers in our country and rest is well known to you because it is taught extensively in our text books. And eventually after nearly a millennium of foreign rule we finally liberated ourselves in the year 1947. And then we gave ourselves a really good constitution that clearly reflected our values as a civilization. But as it turned out, Muslims living in India wanted a separate country for themselves. And it came as a surprise and shock to us. Maybe we had started to expect a certain behavior from them. We wanted them to think like us – act like us – be like us. Tolerant and compassionate. I understand that this is quite natural. It is difficult not to expect good things from others. But others might have limitations. Others might not have the legacy of thousands of years of evolved civilization. Others might be still primitive in their views. It is sometimes hard to understand the limitations of others. Why an African kid takes double the time solving the same math problem as compared to his Indian classmate can explain the power of developed intellectual faculties by virtue of being a part of a glorious past.
That the Muslims of India and elsewhere are still guided by a single book and a single prophet is a fact. That they have a distinct identity which is superior to the identity they inherit as citizens of a particular country and which they want to protect at any cost is a fact. That the moderate voices amongst them turn out to be either too timid or too few is a fact. That they would require another 500 years to realize the tenets of mutual respect, tolerance and harmony, too, is a fact sadly. The time when a common Muslim man would dare say that all paths lead to God and there is no harm in having diversity of cultures and faiths, the time when a Muslim living in India would dare say that he is proud to be a successor of our glorious tradition of several thousand years is still far away. Just like you, I too, wish that the realization may come to them sooner than we expect but my problem is what do I do now? Today? This year? In the next 50 years? Can I let somebody else’s ignorance ruin my freedom, my rights, my security, my culture, future of my children and sovereignty of my country? Okay, I might have a moral responsibility to enlighten others who are intellectually deprived but at what cost? Should I keep fooling myself that no more Pakistans will be carved out again? Different identity would require different country again. It is just a matter of numbers. Suppose, Muslims outnumber Indians in this country, what value system will prevail? Obviously the value system of the majority community. Would I want my future generations to slave again for Muslims? My answer is - no. No. How can I let that happen? Why shouldn’t the better value system prevail? Can I afford to lose my glorious tradition to some stupid, barbaric and primitive ideology? My answer is – no.
I want you to know this fact – India is liberal, democratic and tolerant only because we are in majority – we Indians – we Hindus, as we are known today. We are the messengers and torch bearers of superior cultural values. If we lose our political and demographic ground to Muslims, these values will go down with us. Is this what you want? I hope not.
And yes, about you proclaiming yourself “secular”, let me tell you that prior to 1st April 1977, India was not a “secular” republic. The word “secular” was inserted in the Preamble of the Constitution of India vide 42nd amendment during Emergency imposed by Mrs Indira Gandhi. This act was done undemocratically and illegally, as everyone knows, and today the bloody word has become so fashionable among our shameless political class that anyone who opposes the injustice of extending extra constitutional privileges to the Muslims like reservations in jobs and education, pensions, grants and Haj subsidies is quickly termed as non-secular. So, unless you plan to contest elections next year and hope to seduce the Muslim vote bank, please refrain from using the dirty “s” word. It will serve nothing except making you prone to being used and being fooled. India is NOT secular and neither should it be. Our motto is Satyameva Jayate and not Allah-o-akbar. Our song is Vande mataram and not Bismillah-o-rahman-ar-rahim, our symbol is Dharma-chakra and not ‘crescent with a star’, our armies still refrain from recruiting muslims for good and our national language is Hindi not Urdu. We are fighting Islamic terrorism everyday. Secular is nothing. It’s a farce. Beware.
Good Luck.
~<100420101438>
Saturday, March 20, 2010
The Dwarika Trip
“Ayodhya, Mathura, Maya, Kaashi, Kanchi, Avantika,
Vaishali, Dwarika, Dhyeya, Puri, Takshashila, Gaya”
What a travel packed trip it has been. And how has been by chance! Did I ever plan to visit Dwarika in my life? But it came to me as a surprise, and a pleasant one too - Delhi to Ahmadabad in train. Transit in Ahmedabad and engulfed in office work on a holiday – thanks to boss. Running through the lanes of Kalupur to find a cyber café while renting a room in a Muslim hotel – wonderful! To see that the two communities still find ways to trust each other – reassuring.
Well, Saurashtra Express picked me up at 8 pm from Ahmadabad and dropped me at Jamnagar at 3am. And because I had nowhere else to go, I waited till 5 on the platform itself. Then struggled to catch the first bus to Dwarika. It was a part sleeper. Good for me. Seems that the day starts a bit late in the western part of the country. The sunrise made me wait till 7:30am. But it was worth it – big dull sun rising on a barren, flat and muddy horizon. And how can one ignore the cactus lining? Indeed it’s a different landscape altogether – harsh and rugged and sometimes marshy. But unlike the highway which is as smooth as one watches in an American flick. Narendrabhai must be complemented.
It was at around 9am that I reached the historic town of Dwarika. And it was an unexplainable feeling to be at a place so revered, so heard about and so intense. Who knows, Lord Krishna might have moved on these roads 5 millennia ago as I was doing now. I quickly enquired about the whereabouts Dwarikadheesh temple, about which I had already collected some info before starting my journey. It was about a mile away from the bus stop and so I walked. On my way, as I saw the people of Saurashtra in their traditional dresses, chanting the holy names of Lord Krishna, I suddenly realized that this scene must have been on since ages. Aren’t we fortunate to have born in a land with such a glorious history – sometimes so intertwined with philosophy, religion and mythology? Yes indeed we are. As I walked, I started imagining the scenes of the great migration of Yadavas along with their savior from the fallen Mathura to the hopeful Dwarika. I could see a reason in the similarity of dress and culture of Vraj and Saurashtra although I didn’t undermine the influence of time and climate.
Soon, I could see the shikhars of the temple with big vaishnava flags fluttering along with the wild sea winds. As I came closer and entered the main temple street, I was amazed with the sight of that unique piece of architecture and archaeology. The Dwarikadheesh temple was right in front of me – standing high in all its glory. It is believed that the first temple on the same site was built by the grandson of Lord Krishna – Sri Aniruddha, although the present structure is around 2500 years old. As I tried to enter the temple premises, I was told that no bags, phones etc are allowed inside so I was forced to rent a room in a nearby lodge. After taking a quick shower, I went for the darshan. Now, as I entered the premises, came closer to the temple and touched its walls I was overwhelmed. It felt to me not as a laterite block but a slice of history frozen in stone. The temple that survived the Muslim attackers for six centuries was worth being written about. But I could barely hold my tears as I moved inside. Barely escaping a comparison with ruins, the temple was clearly narrating the long tale of neglect, greed and corruption.
I was fortunate enough for a quick darshan of the Lord Dwarikadheesh. The Lord was well guarded by a shady pack of Brahmins who cleverly pushed away the devotees as soon as they offered the daanam to them. The complex has various small temples in addition to the main one. Interestingly, The Lord stands sans Radha each of the temples. Then there are temples of Ganesha, Shiva, Amba, Durvasa, Baladeva, Pradumna and Aniruddha. The idols of Lord are beautiful with a unique style. The temple itself is a mix of both Southern and Northern styles. The walls and shikharas of the temple are decorated with innumerable figurines of gods and goddesses, yakshas and yakshinis and other mythological characters. The entire structure has been built in laterite – a locally available stone. But because laterite is more prone to corrosion as compared to granite, many historical parts of the temple have been lost forever.
Then there are encroachments. The most daring one being that of the powerful Sharada peeth of Shankaracharya tradition. Unlike the main temple, the peeth structures are more than well maintained and smell of dirty money being spent relentlessly. The peeth hall itself and its own temples have been deliberately kept on a higher level thereby confirming the existence vaishnava-shaiva rivalry. It is however surprising that such an important vaishnava temple is governed (or misgoverned) by shaivites.
The western entry to the temple is from the ghats of Gomti river which flows clean and clear towards Arabian Sea. In-fact the temple if barely a couple of kilometers away from the confluence of Gomti river and the Arabian Sea. The moderate crowd and the clean waters of the river are a respite from the usual places of religious importance. I wandered throughout the Dwarika town – in its narrow alleys and around its hidden baoris. It was as if I was walking in a sister city of Vrindavana – although much cleaner and friendlier than its big brother.
If at all I had some time on my hand, I would have visited Bet Dwarika – a town very near to the offshore site of Krishna’s Dwarika – the actual city that was built and inhabited by Krishna and his clan. Ignored as a myth since the advent of modern archaeology and historical research, Krishna’s Dwarika was discovered by a team of marine archaeologists ten years back and the specimens recovered confirm to the time period of Mahabharata – of Krishna’s life. I really wanted to visit the museum where all those specimens have been kept but maybe some other time.
It was all I had time for and I had to catch a bus back to Jamnagar so I called it a day and came back to Jamnagar the same night. From there I had a train to catch to Ahmadabad where I am right now waiting for my flight to Delhi to get back to the same old routine but with a renewed conviction to go on a long holiday.
Jai Shri Dwarikadheesh
~ <040320101815>
Vaishali, Dwarika, Dhyeya, Puri, Takshashila, Gaya”
What a travel packed trip it has been. And how has been by chance! Did I ever plan to visit Dwarika in my life? But it came to me as a surprise, and a pleasant one too - Delhi to Ahmadabad in train. Transit in Ahmedabad and engulfed in office work on a holiday – thanks to boss. Running through the lanes of Kalupur to find a cyber café while renting a room in a Muslim hotel – wonderful! To see that the two communities still find ways to trust each other – reassuring.
Well, Saurashtra Express picked me up at 8 pm from Ahmadabad and dropped me at Jamnagar at 3am. And because I had nowhere else to go, I waited till 5 on the platform itself. Then struggled to catch the first bus to Dwarika. It was a part sleeper. Good for me. Seems that the day starts a bit late in the western part of the country. The sunrise made me wait till 7:30am. But it was worth it – big dull sun rising on a barren, flat and muddy horizon. And how can one ignore the cactus lining? Indeed it’s a different landscape altogether – harsh and rugged and sometimes marshy. But unlike the highway which is as smooth as one watches in an American flick. Narendrabhai must be complemented.
It was at around 9am that I reached the historic town of Dwarika. And it was an unexplainable feeling to be at a place so revered, so heard about and so intense. Who knows, Lord Krishna might have moved on these roads 5 millennia ago as I was doing now. I quickly enquired about the whereabouts Dwarikadheesh temple, about which I had already collected some info before starting my journey. It was about a mile away from the bus stop and so I walked. On my way, as I saw the people of Saurashtra in their traditional dresses, chanting the holy names of Lord Krishna, I suddenly realized that this scene must have been on since ages. Aren’t we fortunate to have born in a land with such a glorious history – sometimes so intertwined with philosophy, religion and mythology? Yes indeed we are. As I walked, I started imagining the scenes of the great migration of Yadavas along with their savior from the fallen Mathura to the hopeful Dwarika. I could see a reason in the similarity of dress and culture of Vraj and Saurashtra although I didn’t undermine the influence of time and climate.
Soon, I could see the shikhars of the temple with big vaishnava flags fluttering along with the wild sea winds. As I came closer and entered the main temple street, I was amazed with the sight of that unique piece of architecture and archaeology. The Dwarikadheesh temple was right in front of me – standing high in all its glory. It is believed that the first temple on the same site was built by the grandson of Lord Krishna – Sri Aniruddha, although the present structure is around 2500 years old. As I tried to enter the temple premises, I was told that no bags, phones etc are allowed inside so I was forced to rent a room in a nearby lodge. After taking a quick shower, I went for the darshan. Now, as I entered the premises, came closer to the temple and touched its walls I was overwhelmed. It felt to me not as a laterite block but a slice of history frozen in stone. The temple that survived the Muslim attackers for six centuries was worth being written about. But I could barely hold my tears as I moved inside. Barely escaping a comparison with ruins, the temple was clearly narrating the long tale of neglect, greed and corruption.
I was fortunate enough for a quick darshan of the Lord Dwarikadheesh. The Lord was well guarded by a shady pack of Brahmins who cleverly pushed away the devotees as soon as they offered the daanam to them. The complex has various small temples in addition to the main one. Interestingly, The Lord stands sans Radha each of the temples. Then there are temples of Ganesha, Shiva, Amba, Durvasa, Baladeva, Pradumna and Aniruddha. The idols of Lord are beautiful with a unique style. The temple itself is a mix of both Southern and Northern styles. The walls and shikharas of the temple are decorated with innumerable figurines of gods and goddesses, yakshas and yakshinis and other mythological characters. The entire structure has been built in laterite – a locally available stone. But because laterite is more prone to corrosion as compared to granite, many historical parts of the temple have been lost forever.
Then there are encroachments. The most daring one being that of the powerful Sharada peeth of Shankaracharya tradition. Unlike the main temple, the peeth structures are more than well maintained and smell of dirty money being spent relentlessly. The peeth hall itself and its own temples have been deliberately kept on a higher level thereby confirming the existence vaishnava-shaiva rivalry. It is however surprising that such an important vaishnava temple is governed (or misgoverned) by shaivites.
The western entry to the temple is from the ghats of Gomti river which flows clean and clear towards Arabian Sea. In-fact the temple if barely a couple of kilometers away from the confluence of Gomti river and the Arabian Sea. The moderate crowd and the clean waters of the river are a respite from the usual places of religious importance. I wandered throughout the Dwarika town – in its narrow alleys and around its hidden baoris. It was as if I was walking in a sister city of Vrindavana – although much cleaner and friendlier than its big brother.
If at all I had some time on my hand, I would have visited Bet Dwarika – a town very near to the offshore site of Krishna’s Dwarika – the actual city that was built and inhabited by Krishna and his clan. Ignored as a myth since the advent of modern archaeology and historical research, Krishna’s Dwarika was discovered by a team of marine archaeologists ten years back and the specimens recovered confirm to the time period of Mahabharata – of Krishna’s life. I really wanted to visit the museum where all those specimens have been kept but maybe some other time.
It was all I had time for and I had to catch a bus back to Jamnagar so I called it a day and came back to Jamnagar the same night. From there I had a train to catch to Ahmadabad where I am right now waiting for my flight to Delhi to get back to the same old routine but with a renewed conviction to go on a long holiday.
Jai Shri Dwarikadheesh
~ <040320101815>
Sunday, March 7, 2010
SoS
When everything is logically correct and nothing is without reason, why am I experiencing this acute pain in my heart? Why do I feel robbed out of my soul? As if all of my energy has suddenly disappeared. Why am I feeling so insignificant so worthless? SoS
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Sorry!
What I didn't know was that you were already disturbed with something that had cropped up from your past. If I added to the confusion and complicated the things at your end, I'm sorry!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Did I do something wrong?
I think Ivan's story didnt go quite well with Mausi. It was expected but not experienced earlier so its making me uncomfortable. Yes, ignoring, stepping back and cutting off ties is a valid reaction, maybe necessary for her. But if I come back on my own side, did I do something wrong? Did I hide my intentions? Did I lose my honour at any point? Did I become disrespectful? No. I dont think so. As soon as the emotion came to mind and as soon as I found the reason, I expressed myself. And I waited only to let her finish her project before being bogged down (by an awkward story). But I spoke my mind honestly. Then instead of a simple response, positive or negative, why such a typical reaction? I dont know but maybe this is how it happens with everybody. Fair enough! I am prepared for it and I am sure that I wont lose a dear friend for an outburst of emotion and its reaction. I know when she will realize that I meant no harm, she'll understand and start the communication. I am always there as a friend, as usual. I might have recovered too by then. But who knows?
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Anxiety
There's so much of anxiety in the air... am feeling so restless! God! What will happen? What does destiny hold for me? Well, I accomplished atleast one of the things that I had planned - sharing Ivan's story with Mausi. Afterall it was written for her, wasnt it? But I'm not sure whether she has read it yet... gotto ask her soon. And why the hell am I so unorganized?? I am angry at myself.
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