कभी कभी

ये तो नहीं कि दिल दुखता नहीं अब मगर कभी कभी,
खामोशियों में घुल सी जाती हैं शब्-ओ-सहर कभी कभी

इस इक यकीन पे कायम हैं मेरे सजदे अब तक,
दुआओं में भी होता है असर कभी कभी

पानी पे लकीरों सी मुक़द्दर तेरे मेरे प्यार की,
दिल को दिल की होती है खबर कभी कभी

खुशियों को पता दूँ कि आ भी जाएँ ,
याद आये जो उन्हें मेरा घर कभी कभी  

यूँ सही

नहीं  कुछ  और  मैं  तेरी  राहों  में  एक  मंज़र  सही , 

पास  आ  कि  मैं  सेहरा  सही  तू  समंदर  सही 

आकर   ठहरें  तेरी  यादों  के  काफिले  कभी, 

दिल  अपना  एक  वीरान  शहर  सही 

मैं  वो  रिंद  नहीं  कि  शराबों   को  तोलूं ,

गम  – ए -यार  नहीं  मुझको  गम -ए-दहर  सही 

1) रिंद = drunkard, free thinker
2) दहर = world
3) वक़्त -ए -अजल = time of end, death

गुज़री है

क्या  कहूँ  कैसे ये उम्र-ए-सोगवार  गुज़री  है ,

ज़ख्म -ए -जिगर  से  नश्तर  सी  बार  बार  गुज़री  है 

गुज़रे  हैं  सेहरा-ए- दिल  से  कितनी  हसरतों  के  काफ़िले ,

जागती  आँखों  में  कैसे  शब् -ऐ -इंतज़ार  गुज़री  है 

दिल  ही  था  जो  न  माना  कि  हम  दूर  हो  चले ,

वो  आये  तो  ख़बर  गलियों  से  कई  बार  गुज़री  है 

अब  इस  ख़याल  से  तस्कीन  है  दिल -ऐ -नाकाम  को ,

हम पर  जो  बीती , कुछ  उन  पर  भी  यार  गुज़री  है 

1 )  सोगवार = sorrowful / grieved

2)  तस्कीन  = comfort, consolation

सब्र

शहर में यूँ तो निगेहबां हैं बहुत से ,

दिल के बहलने को यहाँ  सामां  हैं बहुत से

थम गए क्यूँ अज़ाबों के सिलसिले  ,

चाक होने को यहाँ गिरेबाँ हैं बहुत से

अपनी कश्ती पे सवार इस क़दर न इतरा ,

समंदर के हिस्से में अभी तूफ़ान  हैं बहुत से

हम जो खो  गए कि तुझको  पा लिया ,

तेरी दीद को यहाँ परेशान हैं बहुत से 

मेरी ख्वाहिशों को ये ज़मीन नहीं तो न सही ,

हद -ए- निगाह में अभी आसमां हैं बहुत से


Note :
1) निगेहबां = watchman, guard
2) अज़ाब = punishment
3) चाक = torn / slit
4)  दीद = sight/ glimpse

बाकी

मेरी  चाहतों  की  फेहरिस्त  में  ,

 ये  कितने  मकाम  जुड़  गए 

दिल  के  छोटे  से  इस  घर  में ,

कितने  सामान  जुड़  गए 

मगर  अब  भी  एक  कोना  है ,

खाली  सा , उदास  सा 

अनसुनी  बातों  का  ,

अनकही  प्यास  का 

हो  सके  तो  इसे 

यूँ  ही  रहने  देना 
कि  इसके  खालीपन  में 

मेरे  होने  के  कुछ  निशाँ 

अब  भी  बाकी  हैं 

और  मैं  खुद  से , सब  से ,

दूर  होकर  भी 

कुछ  कुछ  इसका  हूँ 

और  ये  मेरा  है 

ज़ब्त

मुस्कुरा के रह गए , कहना ठीक ना जाना हमने ,

कुछ यूँ पाया है जीने का बहाना हमने

अपने अंजाम की हमको ही खबर रही यूँ तो ,

उसकी गली में रोज़ किया है आना जाना हमने

जाते जाते जायेंगे ये फुरक़त के गम भी ,

कुरेदा है आज फिर एक ज़ख्म पुराना हमने

इस क़दर अज़ीज़ थे तेरी जफ़ाओं के करिश्मे ,

हर बार किया है दिल को निशाना हमने

ख़ामोशी

सहमे सहमे से सन्नाटे

दबी कुचली हसरतों का हाथ थामे

मेरे घर के वीराने में

एक शोर सा बरपाते हैं

कुछ आवाज़ें घुटी घुटी

कुछ चीखें नाराज़ सी

मगर सब कुछ ठहरा ठहरा सा

वक़्त के दामन से

किसी घाव से लहू की मानिंद

क़तरा क़तरा रिस रहा है

मिले

चल ऐ दिल की अब जहाँ करार मिले ,

दिल का दिल पे जहाँ ऐतबार मिले

रहे सलामत हुस्न मिल्कियत तेरी ,

हम ढूँढ़ते हैं गर कोई गमगुसार मिले

फर्श से अर्श तक ज़िक्र है तो उसका ,

कहाँ उस सा दूसरा कोई यार मिले

मय है बेचैन साकी भी बेकरार सा ,

मुझ सा भी कोई बादाख्वार मिले

गम -ए-दहर ने अजब क़यामत है ढाई ,

होके हमसे कुछ वो भी लाचार मिले

What is the real ‘-cracy’

I write this after hearing what Pranab Mukherjee said in his speech on the floors of Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha before forwarding the sense of the House in favour of Sri Anna Hazare’s demands over the Jan Lokpal Bill. He made one important remark where he stressed the difference between ‘mobocracy’ and democracy on strict structural and procedural grounds. A parallel and seemingly contradictory picture arises when you hear the arguments of civil society activists of India Against Corruption stressing again and again on the sovereignty and supremacy of the popular sentiments over the wish of a few elected representatives comprising the political brass.

Whatever little I could argue on the basis of my limited exposure to the issue concerned , there is no doubt that this agitation clearly stands as a watershed in the post independence scenario in the political history of our country because of two main reasons.

Firstly, it did not have the face of a political movement, as the striving never emphasized a change of regime like it was the case of J. P. movement of 1974. Taking up a very perennial cause affecting the entire spectrum of Indian society, irrespective of caste , class, or geographical demarcations, the movement was able to draw the attention of a very large section of people as was evident from the news reports during the past few months and more specifically during the past few days.

Secondly , deriving its strength from bringing people to become more aware of a very infecting and deep rooted sickness that has been crippling the ethos, functioning and spirit of a vibrant and still evolving politico-economic reality of our country, the movement simultaneously put a question before the people as to how should they acknowledge the democratic reality of our nation- are we a ‘representative’ democracy or can we strengthen ourselves more by functioning through a mechanism closer and closer to referendum.

It is not that corruption is something people need to be made aware about. Nor is it the fact that this is the first time that the nation has witnessed such a widespread agitation on a national issue. The debate gets critical because this time the popular will interfered with the normal proceedings of the legislation making process and ultimately the wisdom of the rulers had to some extent reach a compromise and not put forward a blatant denial of the voice of the masses, as it was trying to do so initially arguing in favour of keeping the dignity of democratic institutions sacrosanct. This was again acknowledged by Mr. Pranab Mukherjee , when he pointed out that in a dynamic and functional political system such exceptions are welcome and more so needed in order to reduce friction and reach common consensus.

When India entered into her first general elections , the democratic experiment in our country was looked at with suspicion and contempt by many critics abroad, but it was the political will of the then leadership and their faith in the democratic institutions that they succeeded in surprising the world with the success of the same and it is this heritage that has kept us going even in the face of many ups and downs in the past six decades . Many a times our political institutions have faced strong criticism on structural and functional issues, our Constitution has been many a times debated over, amended and in the wake of all this churning and changes occurring we have stood witness to the strength of the same,

But , if we closely ponder, in the midst of celebrations happening over many parts of the country on the success of the civil society endeavours, we are really facing a very subtle and critical question. It is no doubt that we are evolving on the path of democratic functioning, but are we really empowering ourselves to become what I call a ‘capable’ democracy. It is here that we must think beyond the numbers pulled towards a cause and stress more on the qualitative aspects. The post independence communal genocide happened during the times when we had a stalwart as Gandhi to guide us. The very force that could unite us into a non violent struggle against the foreign rule failed to save the day when tested against a different but very much a thriving context. Those were common people , men of a shared past, shared pain, striving and oppression who, on being provoked on communal grounds, became ready like savages to kill , rape , torture and burn their fellow countrymen . Similar depressing examples are present in the post independence era as well.

We must not forget that although on one side the acceptance of popular will indeed implies the success of a democratic set up , there is also a need to remember that due care must be taken in shaping this ‘popular’ voice because I for one thing strongly believe that crowd can have consensus but not necessarily with a conscience. It is of utmost import to infuse conscience before one tries to generate consensus because as much as we are trying to bridge the gap between the ruler and the ruled , due care must be taken that success of democratic functioning depends on harmonizing the various competiting influences and bringing them together to agree to a certain extent for a common cause and push forward for the same as one nation .

As is rightly said,

Chaman mein har tarah ke rang-o-buu se baat banti hai,

Hum hi hum hain to kya hum hain, tum hi tum ho to kya tum ho….

Are You A Feminist ?

Yes, I have started to feel time and again that the litmus test for a man to be hailed as civilized and progressive in his outlook is rooted in his psychological bend towards the fairer sex. To that end , if the answer to the above question is a flat ‘YES’ , well , you are the man, a perfect ten on ten talk show material. Even if you are somebody bordering close to being a feminist, you stand as the symbol of a class stratum that defies the so called ‘conventional’ or ‘bourgeoisie’, that has been sickening our society since long long past.
Why am I writing all this trash? Because last night on a news program I got to know how much pain the brainy, modernist girls of Delhi are taking to give strength to the cause of female dignity , by planning to carry out what they have called ‘Besharmi Morcha’. Allegations have been that this has been inspired by the ‘slut walk’ routines abroad, but saying this would be underestimating the strength and perspective of the educated , confident and forward looking women/girls of today. Hell, whatever be the cause, this kind of sentimental outpouring does indeed force me to impress upon the reader, the underlying dimensions of this issue, at least to the level I could comprehend.
One of the guests of the talk show, a woman, pointed out that the kind of demeanor you carry, must resonate with the cultural milieu around you. Now there is a psychological side to this problem. I had read somewhere , that in psychological studies, men are basically understood to be voyeurs and women to be exhibitionists. And this is the reason why mars and venus find such a deep consonance in relating to each other, like missing pieces of a puzzle completing each other. This seems quite obvious because in relating like this what is coming into play are the biological selves of the players involved, rather than their socio-cultural ethos, which rather would seem like deterrents in such manifestations. If this is taken to be true then one’s sensitivity towards the cultural reality of one’s society must play a crucial role in deciding what to wear and what not to. Thus it is fine and quite acceptable if you clomp around naked in the nude beaches of western Europe, but borrowing or assimilating such kind of cultural expressions of one’s freedom in a third world country like ours would translate into creating a pervert’s paradise. It must be understood and sincerely acknowledged that no matter where the GDP is soaring, how many Tata Nanos are there on the road, how many bollywood names have been amalgamated into Hollywood, when it comes to grassroots, ours is a tale of deprivation. Struggles abound starting from worrying about a hungry stomach, a terminally sick family member amidst dwindling assets, a property feud, to this general sense of ennui and helplessness which even the so called capable and assertive brass of our society fall prey to. The heterogeneities and conflicts boiling within and outside do force us to seek an escape, a temporary sense of control, and suppressed over time this strife finds violent expressions. I very clearly remember, it was around 2002 -03 that in Delhi only there were frequent news pieces about girls being picked in cars , raped and then thrown out of different cars. I don’t remember whether the culprits were caught or not, but there were 3, 4 similar incidents of such sort. What worries most is the fact that such modus operandi deployed to such shameless ends indeed reveals how deep this sickness has crippled our psyche. Parallel to this there are scattered news flashes of sex rackets being discovered in the heart of cities and girls being fetched from small towns and forced into prostitution. Not only has our country flourished along the lines of inter state flesh trade within the land but is also gradually proving to be a convenient transit hub in the international trafficking. You have the example of Kamathipura where ,it has been found that children of 11 to 13 years are the ones most coveted by customers.
I say all this just to cover in part of how this threat, this diseased psyche of our society is going to put a question before your revolting self to constrain and I dare say decide for you as to how you can express your ‘confident’ self out there.
There is another very cunning side to this issue where the role of corporate , media and entertainment industry stands to be criticized. Over the past two and a half decades, if one looks at how the advertisement industry has changed , the kind of themes being projected before a huge and rather gullible strata of consumers to sell their products , is rather amusing. Gone are the days of a sweet little girl saying’ I love you Rasna’ . Today a mango flavoured beverage connotes a bollywood hottie getting really turned on like a bitch in heat by just gulping one drop of it ,because it isn’t just a mango, it is aamasutra at your service if you don’t know kamasutra. Then there are soap brands showing the same gorgeous beauties revealing their clean armpits, flawless skins and shapely legs before taking a bath, which seems more like a poetry in movements and I wonder how such a luxury of time and comfort materializes in the lives of the middle class wives and mothers of our society. If that wasn’t enough , there is an ad by one reputed shoe company which appeals to the female customers to purchase their particular line of shoes for ‘toned’ butts. I am a great fan of the minds behind that ad because for obvious reasons it is a feast for mind body and soul . But curiosity still haunts as to where the need for an extremely fine tuned posterior comes. I mean proportionate is understandable , disproportionate, quite visibly unacceptable, but this much attention for hips is what baffles me. But the ad shows happy confident young women shaking their behinds in a sense of jubilation , giving a promise of what was attainable has been attained, and now it’s our turn to do the same.
Coming to bollywood I must say, we have come a long way from asking really deep existential doubts like ‘Choli ke piche kya hai ?’ to appreciating why Sheila doesn’t need a man in her life because being capable enough she knows ways and means to pleasure herself which no mortal can avail. Kudos I must say. Then there are such inferior level displays of coitus on screen, a spoof like imitation of Hollywood glory but without the similar maturity of expressions and frankness. There you are allowed to see what all is to be seen,but here they just seem to titillate the ‘consumer needs’ and shy away from a responsible portrayal of such an obvious , natural and many times said to be the purest expression of love.
Well, without saying more all I want to emphasize is that such demands of more and more freedom in choices of clothing, of ensuring safety on streets , of ensuring dignity of women in and out of homes are just and earnestly needed. But they cannot come by creating such demands on one side and hammering on the very roots of our ethics which enshrine such principles. The visible and print media, having the greatest reach and thus penetration into the socio cultural lives of the people , must take a critical view of its position and role in shaping and nurturing these perspectives. Parallel to this the government , civil society and administration must seek to neutralize the penetrative mechanisms that render such positive efforts fruitless . Such untoward incidents of women being raped in police stations are a mark of shame on a welfare state. Last but not the least comes the role of people themselves of carrying themselves in a responsible fashion . It doesn’t take long for freedom to be abused as anarchy and such a transformation has repercussions for everyone, and this is what needs to be understood in a progressive and forward looking society.

तुम बिन

हम जो हर दम अपने दम से गए ,

कभी तेरे , कभी अपने गम से गए

गए उन तक जो पैगाम -ऐ -वफ़ा  मेरे ,

कभी ज़ख्म -ऐ -जिगर कभी चश्म -ऐ -नम से गए

गुज़रा है ये सफ़र यूँ भी तेरे बिन ,

चले कुछ दूर और थम से गए

तेरे साथ थी हयात धूप छाँव सी ,

बिन तेरे ये मौसम भी कुछ नम से गए

poem

वो मेरा कब था की हुआ गैर समझूँ मैं ,

बख्श अब मर्ग ख़ुदा कि खैर समझूँ मैं

गाँठ गाँठ कर खोली है बात दिल ने ,

हाल -ऐ -दिल अब यूँ तेरे बगैर समझूँ मैं

बातें ये दीन की , मुझसे कर ना और वाइज़ ,

क्या हरम कि और अब , क्या दैर समझूँ मैं

रू-ब-रू

बाकी कितने हैं सितम मेरे हिस्से इस जहाँ में ,

क्या से क्या हुए हम शहर -ऐ -बुतान में

मजबूरियां इस दिल -ए -नाकाम की ,

उतरी हैं उनकी चुप में , या अपनी ज़ुबां में

महफ़िल में वो छुपाते हैं नज़र मुझसे ,

माज़ी जिनका है शामिल मेरी दास्तान में

ना पूछिए कैसे रोके हैं खुद को हम ,

क़ैद कितने हैं तूफ़ान मेरी तर्ज़ -ऐ -बयान में ...

एक से

रंग रंग सब अलग ,
रंग रंग एक से

एक रंग कौन जिसने ,
रंगे रंग एक से

धूप छाँव दो मगर
खेल सब हैं एक से

पास पास हैं मगर ,
दूर सब हैं एक से

सुर साज़ ताल लय ,
मौन हों तो एक से

राह राह हर कदम ,
ठहर पड़ें तो एक से

"It is in our wanderings that we seem different, it is in our stillness that we are one..
it is in our echoes that we become distant.. it is in our silence that we are closer ........."

Ek Dastaan Kai Kirdaar

Jo bhi likha jayega bade tute dilon ki kahaniyaan hain. Kuch dekhi hain,kuch suni hain,kuch badi kareeb se jaani hain.Isliye Hindi aur English dono shamil hongi.Shaharyar ne sach kaha hai ki “kabhi kisi ko mukammal jahan nahi milta, kahin zameen to kahin aasmaan nahin milta”. Yes ,the saga envelopes the myriad hues in which the arrows of cupid have coloured the lives of many love struck enthusiasts who have fallen prey to this bitter sweet sickness of their hearts.

Telling the story on a personal note my education about the garden of cupid began very early I guess, when I started per say liking my school senior girls,without actually caring much as to what was likeable about them other than the fact that they did seem to know the world better than I did,and that my friends is an A on my score card.But my fantasies played on a very platonic note and that too gentled by the very safe conversation patterns that began with addresses like,” A didi …..aap ..blaah blaah blaah”, to “ok… acha theek hai B didi ”.Yes ,”didi “ had to be there because nothing else could better fit in. Sad thing is ,after 15 years, even now I can’t find a better fit there in.
I guess, as much as my memory isn’t failing me,Titanic was the breakthrough.A tale that raised the hopes that impossible is ‘quite’possible.Love happens, just as shit does, and for no reason that your cognitive faculties can find support for. I guess that was near the dawn of the millennium and college was far, I thought, way to go, good stuff, college years, here I come.
IIT happened, and in those five glorious years, I must say ,a lot happened(mere sath nahi ).Yahan tha ki mujhe pehli baar pata chala ki pyaar bhi tech societies(yahan sabke piche tech juda tha, music dance, drama, ishq tak ) ke programmes ki tarah ek systematic planned affair hai. Badi mehnat hua karti thi aur ek se ek diggaj ashiq dekhey. Jo institute aur cross institute dimesnsions pe kehelne ka madda rakhtey the unhone us scale pe jaadu dikhaya. Khud Bengal rahe aur UP ko manaya. Jinke ishq pe din pehredar hua karta tha, unko raat gaye 2.2 (pyaar wali sadak thi ye) pe dherey dherey cycle thame muskurate batiyaate dekha jaata .Kai khiladi aise the jinhe mausam aur zindagi dono se vasta nahi tha.Din ke ghanton,classes ki girti attendance ke beech cafeteria ki coffee ki garmi ishq ko gunguna kiye rehti thi.Raat dhale ye laila majnu ,himakat ko bhi sharminda karke Bidhan chowk( pyaar ka Gol Chakkar) pe ek dusre se satey, pareshaan , kabhi khush ,kabhi jahgadtey , kabhi maaatey dekhe jaate.
Please these references should not put an impression that the institute was haunted by love struck ghosts of the ages gone by,of Shakesperian melodies and the great souls I am talking about had nothing to do with the ways of the world.As I said technology was always there.There was Google, then google chat,then orkut,and I realized through these what share technology claims in the lives of us mere mortals chasing the ephemeral bliss , the tantalizing grandeur of becoming a legend in the Cupidland.
Inke rehtey ,wo duur ho ke bhi paas the.Main maafi chahunga,main mobile ko bhul gaya.Badi kambakht cheez hai. Maine dekha hai ghanton ghanton,raaton raaton, kaise mere azeez apne apne dil e bimaar behlaya kartey the.Jab unke balance khatam ho jaate ya jaan ka dushman network pyaar mein kaanta hota, to doston ke phone sahara hotey the.Karaar ye tha ki kabhi kabhi humare hisse bhi Meghdoot hone ki izzat bakhshi jaati thi, udhar se request hoti thi” ‘Uska’ phone nahi uth raha…zara baat kara do”. Humare jaise nakaam dil ye soch khush hote, chalo apna nahi ,apni wajah se kisi ka baag to sanwra.In sabhi tota maina episodes mein do aur cheezein hain jinka asar bahut gehra raha hai.Ek to institute premises mein bikhre food joints jahan par saari deliberations bahut hud tak initiate aur finalise hua karti thiin aur dusra bike rides.Ji haan sahab, wo hero hero hi kya jo apni madam ko sair na kareye. Yahan apni tangnaseebi ye thi ki bike to chalani aati nahi thi , darr darr ke seekha tha to scooter, aur wo ya to wahan kuch professors chalaya karte the ya kuch ‘not so famous’ faces of the campus .

Ye na tha ki ye sab humein chua nahi, kai din hum bhi gudgudaye, par jab gudgudi,bahut dinon gudgudi hi bani rahi,to akal aayi ki rehne do,ye wo khel nahi jiske tum khiladi ho.
There was another side that played to my disadvantage.The kind of friend circle I was so cherishing became the determining factor to kill any hopes that could have kindled the flames of my distraught heart. Booze was the most sacrosanct presence and in drunken stupor the way life cleared its game, most of the joys of the heart turned into frivolities that presented themselves in a naked shameless dance, and to that, any mind that still has an ounce of reason left can give nothing else but a flying fuck.
Magar hamari choriye sarkar,yahan baat bulbulon aur sayyadon ki ho rahi hai. Jaisa ki maine kaha shikari kai the,shikaar kai. Do dhai saalon ki mehnat kaiyon ke liye nazdikiyan banin ,kaiyon ki mehnat ,ghante aur paise,sab barbaad ho gaye. Kai baar to yahan tak dekha ki shikaar ki tayaariyan kisi aur bulbul ke naam thiin,magar dil ka pinjara kisi aur hi ke naam ho gaya. Par jindagi ke sach chahe kitne hi mayuus hon,kitne ki kadwe, main salaam karta hun in dilfigaaron ki zid ko jinse ki ishq aur ishq ka naam raushan hai.Unko bhi jo naam kahin kho gaye,ya (khuda reham kare) badnaam ho gaye.Mera sar unke aage bhi jhukta hai jinke ishq aaj zamane ke dastuur aur ma baap ki zid ke aage majbur kuchle ja rahey hain, magar sahab investment itna kiya ja chuka hai ki koi haar manne ko tayyar nahi hai. Ye dil hi nahi dimaag wale log bhi hain.Mera akhiri salam unke naam hai jo apni khushiyon ke gulistan hakeekat se itne duur sajaa ke khush rehtey hain ki unhe unke ujadne ka koi darr nahi hai.Khwabon ko bhala kaun chuu saka hai.Unki nazdeeki hamare gam se hai,humari hakeekat se nahi.
Isliye friends and foes,before I close,here is a couplet from Faiz,
Tu jo mil jaaye to ye taqdeer niguun ho jaye,
Yun na thaa maine,faqat chaha tha yun ho jaaye

ख्वाहिश

ख्वाहिशें समेटी थीं इस दिल ने भी कई ,

मगर ख्वाबों का वो जहाँ नहीं मिला

कहीं दो पल ठहरने को ये ज़मीन ,
कहीं उड़ने को आसमान नहीं मिला

गुज़री हम पर जो इन राहों पे ऐ दिल ,
कहते मगर वो राज़दां नहीं मिला

ढूंढता हूँ दश्त -ओ -सेहरा में जिसको ,
बिछड़ा जो फिर वो कारवां नहीं मिला

jaise

wo aaye to aaye tasavvur mein aise
phool pe oas theherti ho jaise

meri nafas mein wo hai yun shamil
gul mein khushbu basti ho jaise

hon hum duur yun aur paas bhi
falak se zameen milti ho jaise

likha jab bhi husn-o-ishq to yun
gazal uski hi baat karti ho jaise

poem

bujh gaye aankhon mein jaltey jaltey,
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magar ji se kuch lachaar they...

gairon mein gintey hain aaj wo,
kabhi jo dil ka karaar they...

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shab ke siine mein gam hazaar they...