Saturday, December 8, 2012

Uski Shaadi


Aaj uski shaadi ki khabar aayi.
Main uss se pyaar nahi karta.
Chahata hun, ya ab kehlo, tha.
Kya, pata nahi.
Eik ajeeb si chaahat, jisse main bayaan nahi kar sakta shabdon mein,
kyunki asal mein wo hai hi nahi.
Par mere andar se dekho, toh hai bhi.
Bohut badi.
Kya hai, bass kaha nahin jaa sakta.
Uski wo sagaii ki tasveerein dekh kar jo hua, meri smajh mein nahi aaya.
Main udaas nahi hun.
Kyun hounga?
Naraaz bhi nahi hun.
Hakk hi kya hai?
Khush hun shayad, zara sa,
uske muskuraate hue chehre ko dekh kar.
Par kuch hai jo andar kahin hila sa mehsoos hota hai.
Na Jane wo kaun sa ras hai jo ye ehsaas deta hai.

Filhaal, main khush hun.
Wo meri dost thi, hai.
Wo khush nazar aa rahi hai tasveeron mein.
Uski muskaan mujhe hamesha se pasand rahi hai.
Aur haan, shayad yahi muskaan hai
jo meri uss anjaani chaahat ka bakhaan hai.
Ye muskaan dekh kar main khush hota hun,
Issi khoobsurti ki chaahat mein jeeta hun.

Toh mujhe bura kyun lagega?
Koi pyaar, koi wajib chaahat toh kabhi thee hi nahi.
Toh aaj mujhe bura kyun lagega?
Mujhe khush hona chahiye, uss khili muskaan ko dekh kar.
Uss chehre ki khushi ko paakar.
Aur main khush hun!

Bass, kahin kuch hai andar jo….

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

309

आज मैं अपने सेक्टर के 309 नंबर मकान की घंटी बजा कर भाग आया ।
दूर एक गली में घुसकर, खम्बे के पीछे खडा हांफता रहा।
कुछ देर झाँक कर देखता रहा 309 के गेट से निकली आंटी को,
जो दायें बायें घंटी बजाने वाले को ढूंढ रहीं थीं।
उनके बुदबुदाते हुए अन्दर चले जाने तक मैं वहीँ खड़ा रहा और फिर अपनी शरारत पर मुस्कुराते हुए घर लौट आया।

आज दस साल के बाद मैंने ऐसी हरकत की थी।
दस साल के बाद आज मैं इतनी तेज़ भागा था।
दस साल के बाद मैं आज अपनी ही हरकत पर इतने जोर से हंसा था।
हँसते हँसते दौड़ा आज मैं दस साल बाद था। मैंने खुद के हांफने की आवाज़ दस साल बाद सुनी थी।

पर हाँ, कुछ मामूली सा फर्क था ...
इस बार की मेरी शरारत में अर्जुन, केतन, अंकित साथ नहीं थे।
इस बार डर कुछ ज्यादा लगा था, और ठहाके ज़रा कम निकले थे।
309 से निकली आंटी बदल चुकी थी, और उस गेट के पीछे खड़े मकान का नक्शा भी।

एक फर्क और था ...
इस बार मैंने सिर्फ सोचा भर था। 

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

CONFLUENCE

We started out together.
Well, nearly.
I took the road less travelled.
Metaphorically, since this less travelled path
has also now been treaded upon.


We started out together.
We're now at a similar stage, the same age.
They earn four times the amount I do.
I smile during the day a lot more.


They have weekends and Friday nights.
Oh, and that's when they smile and have a hearty laugh.
I'm off work never.
Not even when I'm sleeping.


I wonder if they're happier.
An envious streak too, briefly crosses my head.
But do I want the life they have?
And I fail to answer the question each time.


The road less travelled is trippy.
And trippy I like.
I now need the bumpy ride to sleep.
Can't find peace without.


Them, I envy and admire.
But despise them I not.
For they strive to make their world happy.
Like I seek mine.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Mehmaan...

This one, is a rant. Yes I think it is. Whatever it is, it will definitely come across as Blehh!!
Still,

A few lines.....


मेहमान!!

अकेला चला था घर से कुछ बरस पहले।
आज भी खुद को अकेला खड़ा पाता हूँ।

अब तक हमराहियों का धुंधला एक एहसास था।
मगर अब सबको दूर कहीं गुमा पाता हूँ।

मेहमान होने की ऐसी आदत डाल ली है,
के अब कहीं किसी घर को अपना नहीं पाता हूँ। 

राह ही कुछ ऐसी चुनी शायद,
के अब जब जहाँ ठहरूं, वहीँ मेहमान कहलाता हूँ। 


'नूर'



The same lines in roman script :-


Akela chala tha ghar se kuch baras pehle,
Aaj bhi khud ko akela khada paata hun.

Ab tak humraahiyon ka dhundhla eik ehsaas tha,
Magar ab sabko duur kahin gumaa paata hun.

Mehmaan hone ki aisi aadat daal li hai,
Ke ab kahin kisi ghar ko apna nahin paata hun.

Raah hi kuch aisi chuni shaayad,
Ke ab jab jahan thehroon, wahin mehmaan kehlaata hun.


'Noor'




Holi Ka Eik Din

Holi, the festival of colours, is the festival I love the most. It is the day of the year I am the most happy, since as long as I can remember. It is one of the most delightful days.

This year, like the last, I wasn't home for Holi. And wrote these lines sitting in my room in Bombay.
A few lines....



फिर वोही दिन चढ़ा है आज,
वोही फिर सुबह आई है।
रंग भी उड़ा है 
और शोर भी मचा है।


मैं इस दिन में लेकिन 
कहीं  खोया हुआ हूँ।
न कोई रंग फेंकने को है 
और न ही भिगाने को।


इस छोटे से झरोखे से ही 
दुनिया की रौनक को देखता हूँ।
इन्ही खुश नजारों में 
खुद को खुश करता हूँ।


'नूर'




And as always, for my friends who prefer reading it in English text - 


Phir wohi din chadha hai aaj
Wohi phir subah aayi hai.
Rang bhi udaa hai
aur shor bhi machaa hai.


Main iss din mein lekin
Kahin khoya hua hun.
Na koi rang phenkne ko hai
Aur na hi bhigaane ko.


Iss chhote se jharokhe se hi
Duniya ki raunak ko dekhta hun.
Inhi khush nazaron mein
Khud ko khush karta hun.


'Noor'

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Nazar

मुझे दिखा हज़ारों में एक रंगीन मकान,
उसने देखा रोज़ गुज़रती ट्रेन का एक डिब्बा.

मैंने देखी एक उदास सूखी नदी,
उसने बस एक नियमित धरधडाहट सुनी. 

मुझे खेत में पत्तों की एक झर्हट देख ठंडी राहत मिली,
उसकी तरफ से एक ट्रेन फिर लोरी सुनाती गुज़री.

मैंने देखे पकडंडी पर क्रिकेट खेलते कुछ लड़के,
उनके लिए थी एक बनती बिगडती बाउंडरी.

मुझे दिखे साइकिल-सवार पगड़ी-पोश गाँव के मुखिया,
उन्हें उनसे तेज़ दौड़ती एक गाड़ी.

मैंने पेड़ के नीचे एक पीर को मज़ार में सोते देखा,
उसकी नींद में एक हवा का झोंका गुज़रा. 


'नूर'



The same lines in Roman script, for the Hindi-challanged :-


Mujhe dikha hazaron mein eik rangeen makaan,
usne dekha roz guzarti train ka ek dibba.

Maine dekhi ek udaas sookhi nadee,
Usne bass eik niyamit dhaddhadaahat suni.

Mujhe khet mein patton ki jharhat dekh thandi raahat mili,
Uski taraf se ek train phir lori sunaati guzari.

Maine dekhe pakdandi par cricket khelte kuch ladke,
Unke liye thi eik banti bigadti boundary.

Mujhe dikhe cycle-sawar pagdi-posh gaon ke mukhiya,
Unhe unse tez daudti eik gaadi.

Maine ped ke neeche eik Peer ko mazaar mein sote dekha,
Uski neend mein hawa ka jhonka guzara. 


'Noor'

Thursday, March 1, 2012

The Choice, The Game...

Over the past few days, I've often been coming across people in their twenties, early or late, who are trying hard to carve a niche for themselves in the profesional and the corporate worlds.
Well, today the world is full of these people.
Almost everyone you meet in that particular age-group falls in a smilar category, trying to prove themselves in their chosen respective segments of the corporate circus. These people that I have met, have been Analysts, Engineers, Marketing professionals, Investment Bankers, Financial advisors and the like.

Peculiarly, very peculiarly indeed, I have found a common thread running through them, all of them. Almost all of these passionately driven, smartly dressed and appropriately conducted young people, have had a history of artistic inclination. All of them, yes. And this comes out of them accidentally almost.
Something being talked about, or a song on the radio, or some place they visited, or any such nostalgia-evoking occurrence takes them down the memory lane, and the reminiscing of the good old college or school days begins, which does not, nearly ever, stop immediately. A few pegs down, and you can't rule out a full-fledged performance out of them. A few more, and the nostalgia might just become too strong to handle, often making people break down, or at least romantically muse over the days of beautiful art gone by.

And more often than not, in good measure, these people hardly carry many regrets about not being able to visit their respective revered arts more frequently. It is almost as if they are happy saving their best performances for such drunken moments, or moments of nostalgic gatherings, and once the reminiscing session is over, they're back to chasing their professional goals passionately and cheerily.

Such encounters have, lately, left me wondering. Are these people better off than the ones who recognize their love for the arts early on and direct all their energies towards their chosen and accepted calling? Because clearly, the former are the ones enjoying the best of both worlds. Okay well, not the 'best' of the other world, but still...you know what I mean !

These people, who tread the socially acceptable and respectable professional paths, do good for themselves monetarily, and still manage to keep bits of their art alive within them, which shows up at social gatherings, have earned my respect of late.
So, a singer who could've outdone the likes of Kailash Kher had he chosen to, is today proud of outperforming his colleagues in a professional assignment, inching closer to that promotion. An actor who was once slapped by Naseeruddeen Shah (the hand of God, Midas touch?!) during a theatre rehearsal, today finds rushes of energy surging through his veins as he works twenty hours a day, making things look easier for his corporate clients, and dealing from his suite in the city's swankiest luxury hotel. A painter creates wonderful creations every Sunday after working hard in the University all week, while a poet gathers applause from his colleagues over cups of coffee and cigarette puffs at work.

I can't say this about everyone else in this context, but I, for one, sometimes do miss the academic competitiveness I possessed as a student. The urge to learn more and more and to display the power of the intellect in academically inclined circles, the proving of superiority through meaningless scorecards, the primness and the decor of corporate social behaviour. This makes me wonder, isn't this other breed enjoying more, being able to live both lives alternately.

The vella dimag, as is its convention, plays games with the self.