Road Trip (Kota)

6^th August. 2005

Kota (Rajasthan),

It was just five of us – gobar, pankaj, appoo, vigi and me while others were enjoying the 4-days-holiday Bansal gave during the Raksha Bandhan. One year was over staying there in Kota, none of us had really got a chance ever to have a Kota-Local tour. So we took out our cycles, had some evening snacks, and set out on NH-12 in the opposite direction of Bansal Classes to some unknown destination.

We paddled our two-wheelers till we reached a scenario where there were loads of people with proportional intensity of whisperings, four constables and an open ancient police jeep with half-corroded number plate while the other half loaded with mud, leaving behind the lower curved part of the letter 8 as the only visible sign. It seemed to be the outer part of a village, seeing a wide well with no pulley and some buffaloes around, we concluded. We parked our two-wheelers and approached towards the crowd. Before we could reach them, a structure with two hands, two legs and other stuffs exactly like those carried by a human being suspended to a branch of a giant banyan tree with a white cloth came to our visible range.

Since it was the first time when I saw a dead body, it was just a source of amusement for me, while the other four joined the array of whispering people. Someone told us that he was a farmer who`s wife was under serious and expensive medical procedures, was under a lot of debt from various people, had 11 children, 6 being females, 4 of whom were of the age in which they were supposed to have in-laws, only 2 of the males of the family were the source of bread and butter, the total income of the family being not more than Rs 25000/- averaged over an annum.

Now the question was, what was the police waiting for? Was it for a free demonstration of hanging human body to little kids who`d never seen death in their lives. We then came to know that they were waiting for an expert climber of the same village who was out to the city which was around 5 kms from that place, was on foot and still they were expecting him any time.

As the shared vision of the Rajasthan Police says, “Aam jan mein vishwas, apradhiyon mein darr”, they are doing a great job inspiring the youths into the medical line by presenting a live demonstration of physical changes that occur in a human body 8 hours after death. Also they are creating a decent piece of trust among the public by laathi-charging to those who came forward with some advise, their repose being- “ab tu mujhe mera kaam seekhaayega, bhaag yahaan se (Now you will teach me what to do, get yourself out of here)”.

Instead their Vision should be, “Aam jan mein darr, apradhiyon mein vishwas”.

फसकर रह गया हूँ

This is a story of a boy named Ishaan from Godhra, the administrative city of Panchmahal district in Gujarat who now is a youngster who can take his own decisions. He is one among the targets of the deadly Gujarat riots. He belonged to a peaceful, middle-class, Hindu family living in a Muslim area, their residence being situated just opposite to the mosque. The boy lost his whole family in the riots when he was just 7, leaving himself all on his own. All of his relatives assumed him to be dead and never ever tried to find his body, they never showed themselves up in that Muslim area.

Now this boy was taken up by a tea-vendor, having his stall near the outskirts of Sant Road which led to Dahod. Unlike other children working for livelihood in the area smoking and gambling during their free times, he chose to write. This is an article from his book of write-ups speaking the words of his life-

एक पत्ते की तरह थी मेरी ज़िन्दगी कभी
हरी तो थी पर
सहारे पर जी रही थी,
हवा चलती उधर मुड़ जाती थी |

एक दिन एक झोंका हवा का ऐसा आया
कि वो पेड़ जड़ से ही उखड़ आया |
अपने फूल पत्तियों को बचाने कि भरपूर कोशिश की उसने
पर बिना किसी सहारे के वो सीधा ज़मीन पर आ गिरा |

उसे पता था गिनती की ही सांसें बची हुई थी उसके पास,
ज़िन्दगी की रफ़्तार उसके हाथों में नहीं थी अब |
आने वाली बारिश की पहली बूँदें
बहाकर ले जाने वाली थी उसे |

उस पेड़ से टूटकर अलग तो हो गया था मैं
पर पास ही पड़ा रहा उसके
देखता रहा उसे, उसके उन आखरी कुछ लम्हों में
साँसे रुकीं उसकी ता एहसास हुआ, कितना अकेला हूँ इस भीड़ में |

रेंगता रहा इधर-उधर, किसी सहारे की तलाश में
पेट ने उत्पात मचाई तो लगा जैसे
खुद का सहारा बनने के अलावा और कोई रास्ता नहीं बचा है मेरे पास
जान हथेली पर रखकर घुस गया इंसानों सी भरे हुए जंगल में |

अचानक एक कांटेदार झाड़ ने रोककर आसरा दिया, सुरक्षा दी
जीवन के कुछ रंग देकर ही खुश कर दिया था उसने मुझे,
अब तो एक पौधा बनने लायक हो गया हूँ मैं,
फिर भी उस झाड़ में ही फसकर रह गया हूँ मैं |

चोट

रात भर सो ना सका मैं तेरी याद में
देखता रहा बस तेरी उस मृत शरीर को,
मंडराने लगे वो सारे पल आँखों के सामने एक-एक करके
जो गुजारे थे मैंने कभी तेरे साथ |

Orkut की वो खुली हुई scrapbook,
Facebook पर खेले वो सारे time-pass games,
Gtalk की वो ping-ping की आवाज़,
Messenger की वो smileys और वो नशीली लाल backgrounds,

CS की वो go-go-go,
AOE की वो भोंपू ,
Mario की वो उछल-कूद,
Taken की वो घटिया graphics,

50 cent और linkin park के वो romantic numbers,
Avril की वो मरी हुई आवाज़,
Blue Ray की वो 8 Gb की movies,
HIMYM, PB, Heroes, F.R.I.E.N.D.S की वो धडाधड sequels,

TS के समय की वो slides,
लोगों के कारनामों की वो print screens,
Paint पर बनाये वो सारे claasy art works,
Photoshop के वो सारे तिकड़म,

याद तो आये पर निकल गए एक-एक करके
पलकों में से आंसुओं के रूप में,
फिर सोचा हंसते-हंसते विदा करूँगा उसे
जिसने हमेशा साथ निभाया अपने उस जीवित रूप में |

देखता रहा, कभी उस काले हो चुके ENTER को,
तो कभी उस USB mouse को,
भूख तक bore होकर चली गयी थी जब
सुबह 6:13 को एक काले प्राणी ने कमरे में दर्शन दिया,

बोलना शुरू किया उसने
"रात भर सोया नहीं है क्या, आँखें लाल हैं तेरी
अच्छा सुन, तेरे Invertor का plug निकाल दिया था मैंने कल
लगा लियो उसे" |

आंसू

आंसू भी सूखने लगे हैं अब
धीरे धीरे नींद भी आने लगी है,

lawn में लगा वो कटहल का पेड़
अब फल देने लगा है,
बीतते हुए हर मौसम के साथ
वो भी तुझे अब भूलने लगा है,
12 साल पहले किसने उसे जीवन दिया था
शायद ही याद होगा उसे अब |

Drawimg room के tea-table के उपर रखी वो कलम
जिसकी स्याही शायद ही कभी सूखती थी,
उसकी nib कहीं खो गयी है
उसकी जगह तो अब भी नहीं बदली है,
पर तेरे लिए लिखे उन सारी कविताओं की खुशबू
अभी भी बाकी है उसमें |

album की सारी तस्वीरें अब धुंधली पड़ने लगी हैं
जिनमें हम साथ देखते थे कभी,
काई सी जमने लगी है हर एक पन्ने के कोने पर
कागज़ को छूने से भी थोड़ा-थोड़ा डरने लगा हूँ मैं अब,
कहीं अलग होकर बिखर ना जाए ज़मीं पे
कुछ कुछ खोने सा लगा हूँ मैं अब |

तेरी काजल की डिबिया वहीँ टेबल के उपर रखी हुई है,
कोने की दिवार से सटकर, पड़े पड़े अब धूल की मेहमान बनी हुई है,
ढ़लते हुए हर दिन के साथ
जब इस कमरे में बत्तियां जलाने आता हूँ,
उसके एक-एक हिस्से को देखकर लगता है जैसे
तुझे भूलने की कोशिश कर रही हों |

शीशम से बनी उस shelf में रखी उन
Tagore की किताबों के बीच, कांच पर कभी कभी
तेरी परछाई दिखाई देती थी,
आँखों से आंसू निकल आया करती थी,
रातों को नींद तो साथ छोड़ ही दिया करती थी,
दिन में पलकें भी झपकना बंद दिया करतीं थीं |

पर अब तो मेरी धड़कन तक तुझे भूलने लगी है,
ना जाने क्यों, धड़कना बंद कर दिया है उसने
आंसू तो सूखने ही लगे हैं,
धीरे-धीरे नींद भी आने लगी है अब |

Mothers Day

When I started Writing ::

It`s a rare cloudy morning of May, the exam month. Every walking creature with a pair of each limb, having some cotton on them, is seen to have some stapled papers in hands, walking down the road, with not at all a single scope of nain-sukh-praapti, there are not much of the chances one gets inside the campus though. But there is one guy, totally in a different state of mind, busy listening to an extremely man-ish voice of the RJ who calls herself Vinita hosting the regular morning show, AIRed by a very famous channel.


That freak gets himself so involved in the bakar-bakar talks of the RJ, that he forgets that he has an End-Sem paper just within an hour or so. He comes into the real world only when his stomach shouts, 'knock knock, give me something !!'. He does his regular breakfast in the ultra-modern mess having its own Electric Tandoor, comes back and sticks himself to his radio-cum-mobile phone. The same Vinita taking messages of people, concerning how much they love their mothers. Mothers day today ??, asking himself, he narrows down his ears to get some more updates. Suddenly she reads out some lines SMS-ed by some listener, followed by a song from the movie TZP inluding that "Maa" word, which pushed him into the depths of sentiments, when he starts writing.....


I`m gonna return home,
Every single day she keeps waiting.
Whenever tears visit her eyes,
She keeps smiling.

It`s like all the time when i feel my empty stomach,
There is just a single call
When she turns off her favourite daily soap,
She keeps baking.

There are times when I`ve got nothing to do but wander,
She leaves her gossip-conferences with the Aunties next door.
She wants to know every happening,
She sits by and keeps listening.

There are treats some evening and late at night,
There are friends hovering all around
Theoritically they are only our enjoy moments,
But then she loves running.

There are sleepless midnights when I host some viruses,
She keeps reminding me the angelic effects of those bitter pills.
Talking of the Love Marriages of nice-nephews,
Unless I`m deep asleep, she keeps waking.

I relive those moments every single day,
Wish I could express my Love and Honour,
I pay my tribute to this selfless soul,
Wish my each day to be a Mothers Day.