Gulmohar

I still remember the day my father tried hard to scribble a few words on the cover of x-ray report at the hospital. He was gasping for breath and muttering something which I could not understand, I tried hard to no avail. Stillness in the air loomed large over me. I somehow understood something was amiss, but could not put my finger on it. Today, after a few years I know that fear of losing somebody is a terrible state to be in. It must be all the more painful for someone who knows that time on earth has ended. My father knew on that fateful Saturday morning that his time had arrived.



~*~
“Amar, come running. This is what both of us wanted all the time.” I heard papa calling me from the Verandah when he returned from work.


“Haan papa, what is it?” And then, my happiness knew no bounds. He had brought with him a cricket set, complete with 4 stumps, a bat, a ball, batting pads and gloves. It was such a dream for me all these days. I would always look forward to having my own bat in my hand while playing, and I had to wait for quite a while. Some waits are worth a lifetime. That Friday evening still remains my best evening. I still have that small local bat named SRU (Sports Round up).


He used to work very hard; he would leave early in the morning by 0530 train from Mughalsarai to go to Chhabirani, a small village where the Vanaspati factory was located. He worked as a Commercial Assistant back then. We children generally understood that pitaji was trying hard to give us a decent up-bringing and nice education. He always insisted on good education. Although he could never give us enough time, we neither complained nor missed his presence because whenever he was around, he made up for all the lost time. We never saw a crease of worry on his forehead. Smile, big and genuine, always adorned his face and Amma basked in the glory. She is a strong woman and stood by her husband in times of distress. Hunger, joblessness etc were all part of the life back then. Vanaspati factory locked out for some reason and papa found himself out of job suddenly. Five mouths to feed, school and fees for three is always an insurmountable task. We went half hungry to school but were always the first to pay fees. We didn’t disappoint our parents, being good students all throughout. We weren’t toppers, but generally took good care of ourselves while competing with the best.

He always would tell us stories during the evenings that he was around. The type of stories that never ended. One such story was about Jhatku who would open jar after jar full of sweets like Rasgulla, Gulab Jamun, Cham cham, barfi etc. He would continue to tell us and we would listen for a while until irritation took over and we would shout in unison, “Enough, now tell us some other story.”


I still remember one terrible winter few years ago. Temperatures had gone down as low as 1 degree Centigrade. One such evening, while returning from work, Papa came by rickshaw. The rickshawpuller barely had anything warm on his body. Chilly wind would cut across his face and body, but he still pulled rickshaw with cold feet and shivering torso. After reaching home, papa made him wait for a few minutes while he came inside looking for his coat that lay in a trunk. Pulling it out, he looked at it once, and went out with it. He handed it over to the rickshawwalla and said, “It will be useful in the winter. Keep yourself warm, you need it more than I do now.”

I can’t forget that evening. It was the only coat that he had. It is easy to give away something when we have something to spare, but to give away the only coat was an act of true courage. He was a courageous man, and the only time I saw him defeated was when he scribbled on the piece of paper, ‘I want to live beta, I want to live now.’ Death, which means so many emotions to various people, has remained a quiet word for me ever since!


*~*

We all have our pet theories about life and living. With time, we become rigid and with that develop the inability to appreciate simple things. Small joys are lost on us; we discuss issues and politics but fail to indulge in small pleasures of life. It has been more than 16 years since Papa left us: now I can say with clarity that he lived a full life. Although it was plucked out suddenly, it still had the radiance that anyone would want to live! He was a complete human with all attributes that can describe someone great - greatness is not in fame, but in who we are! If that much becomes clear, then all else becomes transactional and transitory!

A Gulmohar tree that he had planted is now big and full. This Gulmohar tree has curves and contours in a few places which look like a smile. In the evening, before streetlights are put on, I stand looking at the tree and can immediately see it smile from various angles. A gentle and genuine smile.

तुम्हारी मुस्कान
कोहरे से छन् कर नहीं
सीधी धूप सी आती थी
जैसे सुबह सुबह चिड़ियों का गान
तुम्हारी मुस्कान |

PS - This is fiction - not personal

Being Together

साथ रहते रहते
कई बरस सरक चुके
जो कुछ बच गए
वो भी गुज़र जायेंगे

जब भी मैंने
नटखट सूरज को देखा
नदी को गुदगुदा हंसाते
मैंने भी अपना साथ ढूँढा |

आँसू और अलगाव का
गहरा सम्बन्ध है
हँसी और ठराव भी घनिष्ठ हैं...
जहाज़ सा हो  गया   हूँ मैं
जो नदी पर बह तो रहा है
पर उसकी गहराई नहीं माप सकता,
डूब कर सांस ले रहा हूँ -
खुले में दम घुटने लगा है
विषाद की ऊँगली थाम हँसता हूँ
खुद ही बेकार सा हो चला हूँ |

तुम दूर दिखती हो मुझे
एक धुंधले धुएँ सी
पकड़ लूँ, थाम लूँ
बस यही सोच चुप रह जाता हूँ |

कई बरस बीत चुके
साथ रहते रहते...
और जो बचे हैं
वो भी गुज़र जायेंगे
     

Dotted life

While driving to work today, I was listening to an interesting interview on the radio (FM Rainbow 101.3 in Bangalore). Shivakumar was the name of the gentleman - a very interesting person indeed. He drives an autoriksha for a living and has been growing up in the din of the city, and the din has been constantly rising over the past few years.



He shared some interesting snippets of his life and times; story of someone who has grown in stature with time. I am sure there are many more such people around us, but we hardly get to meet them; they all have amazing resilience and spirit. Ability to laugh is evident in their lives!


He has now been compiling his thoughts into poems and he is about to be published also. Having completed his 9th standard, he started doing various odd jobs as helper, turner, fitter and supervisor. Then a lock-out happened that pushed him to drive his own auto!


There are many ordinary people going around showing exemplary character and extraordinary zeal in their everyday life. Life is a composition of many dotted lines musically detailed in different variants, call it ragas! All these notes tend to completeness but just stop short of reaching that point. Necessarily so, becasue completeness would be the dead end. If a life cannot have many beginnings, then it may not be worth living anyway!


Shiva and such others are playing life to the full - driving an auto, writing poems, singing their own lyrics, taking steps in direction they are not aware of - and tending to completeness, only to take another turn to make a new beginning!

Wide Area Thoughts (WAT?) :)

Rains lashed the city and most of the sidewalk was waterlogged. Burgeoning traffic and growing number of buildings, offices, hawkers all add to the chaos. But there is a sense of order in this overwhelming chaos that has a calming effect.

Many thoughts appear on the horizon and disappear as quickly as they came. Every evening there is promise of a new beginning the next morning - sun rises and sets, leaving shadows behind each day! Moon makes those funny faces & changes his stance each day...and I always have an amazed look and find it baffling all the time.

This young girl walks up to me and has an expression that betrays confidence! She, as it turns out, is in ruins. Everything that she cherished has now turned unbearable. All that she loved has evaporated and hatred reigns. Those anxious days which were spent with lot of expectations are now behind her and have left her embittered! How does it all change within 2 months? Who is to blame?

Someone as young with a decent career to look forward to and a loving family to support, yet she is in no enviable position. Deserted, alone, clueless and mighty confused about ruthless world and all its inhabitants!

Love is a powerful force, a gushing river that can take everything with its flow. Your limbs can only be of so much support - love has blinding fury! It has burnt her and she has no place to hide! By the looks of it, I think she will find way and make it through to find stability somewhere.

Rain started falling with ferocity again. It hasn't rained like this in many years. Everyone is discussing sustainability - and there are lives that are still searching enduring love. Sustaining love is a long journey. It disappears one day and emerges again the next day...life goes on!

Through the dense Malleswaram market sidewalk, we stopped at a small joint. It seemed small from outside but as you get inside, it never ends. The more you indulge - chances are that you won't be able to come out with your wallet intact. All kinds of different dolls, terracota statuettes, traditional wooden pieces, plastic and moulded stuff for fancy - essentially all kinds of stuff that Navaratri can bring on.

There was a beautiful and ornate pair of wooden pattada gombe (wedding couple) complete with all the ornaments, traditional clothing and a set of nadaswara players etc...it was incredibly beautiful. And all beautiful things that are meant to be decoartive pieces tend to be expensive :) I ended up coughing more than 4 thousand rupees on those.

The pleasure of these 9 nights are incommensurate with the money spent on seemingyl trivial stuff! Setting up the stage for display of these various colors and spectres, rummaging through old trunks to bring up some old brass pieces, going out in the sun to select some tiny rocks to create Kailasa parvata...unending stream of work, but very rewarding!

This year, we have this wonderful couple sitting atop the Kailasa, we have a lovely cricket ground with all players intent on pushing themselves to win! All the lights are dazzling and creating a sight hitherto unknwon to my little daughters!

I take a step back, look at these small creations and feel good! As we slowly move into the middle ages, we value some things more than we did them some years ago! I can see myself going through these moments that are almost "aha" to me!
This year Navaratri has added a new flavour to our lives! Navarasas are making our lives complete and navadhanya are feeding many of us!
May the goddess bless everyone!

Meeting with Ambikatanaya Datta - Dr. Da.Ra.Bendre

Gusty winds, typical of Aashaadha and with monsoon stepping in a little late, brought some calm and hope. Riding through the town of Hubli and crossing over into Dharwad is a pleasure. "Saadhana Keri" is a landmark that cannot go unnoticed. Such revered & remakrable figures of our times have come from this beautiful & quiet city of Dharwad - Alur Venkatrao, Gangubai Hangal (whom we have lost forever now), Bhimsen Joshi, Basavaraj Rajguru, Sawai Gandharva, Kumar Gandharva, Mallikarjun Mansur and eminent literateurs V.K.Gokak, Girish Karnad and our own 'Vara Kavi' Dr. Bendre.

His name evokes a sense of tranquility, an essence of humanity & complete oneness with surroundings. Da.Ra.Bendre was one of the few poets who brought melody to language. He was a poet with sustained purpose and his humanity always superceded his poetry! His love for life has an enigmatic presence in all his poems. He almost appeals to all of us to live this life...

His home is a measure of what he was and what he represented through his very simple life. His son told me that Bendre ji had a friend in monkey that would come everyday, regularly! The monkey was very fond of biscuits so Bendre always shared his biscuits. One day, when Bendre had gone out for a walk, this monkey came in and actually turned the place upside down. On return, Bendre saw the mess and gave the monkey a mouthful and asked him never to return again - and startlingly, that monkey never ever returned!

Bendre was very fond of peppermints and always used to have a box of those on his table while he read and wrote. This childlike habit was not a secret and known to everyone. One day, when he popped one of those in his mouth, it tasted sour to him. He gently asked the shopkeeper why, to which the reply was - "these days sometimes these havea sour taste". Bendre quit on chewing these toffees that day and what was an addiction was no more a part of his life! Just shows who he was, in a subtle and strong manner!

Goign through the reams of paper and books, one lifetime isn't enough to write so much! Kannada literature has been enriched by his austere presence. He strode like a colossus and his creations are still being referred to, read, researched, and most importantly, loved!

Kuvempu, Karanth, Bendre et al are arguably the greatest of writers that this country would see!

हार्दिक शुभकामनाएं

रेखा & जीजाजी

हर साल हम गिनते हैं

की अब कितने बरस हो गए

आज जब गिनती देखी

तो बीस निकल चुके हैं और

पलक झपकते ये बारस हाथों से सरक गए हैं




मुझे याद है आपके शादी के जोड़े

भूला नहीं हूँ अब तक आप लोगों के वो झगडे

अब भी देखता हूँ तो लगता यूँ है

की साल तो बस गिनती के लिए हैं

दरअसल हम पले हैं और बढे हैं

इन सब के मानी ये हुए की

साल चाहे कितने ही निकल जाएँ

हम तो बस हरे के हरे हैं




आपको इस सालगिरह की बहुत बधाइयां

रिश्तों की आदतें

कल फिर ढलते सूरज के साथ
आँखें नम की थीं तुमने
मैंने हमेशा की तरह
गाल पर रुकी बूँद को
ऊँगली पर थामा
और हमेशा की तरह
तुम्हारी मुस्कान में
भीग गया

******************
त्रिवेणी - "बारिश"
झरोखे से बाहर
मूसलाधार बारिश का शोर -
मेरे अन्दर एक आर्द्रता!

अस्तित्व

कूड़े की ढेर से उतर
बदन झटकते श्वान की तरह
मैंने फिर वही राह पकड़ी
जहाँ रोज़ भटकता हूँ - तेरी तलाश में
और हर शाम इसी कूड़े की ढेर पर
तिल तिल
अपने अस्तित्व की
तिलांजलि देता हूँ
***********************

महावरी आँसू

दीवार से लगकर
पैरों की कैंची बना
दूर से शून्य ताक रही हो
खिड़की से आती धूप
तुम्हारी बाँई बांह छूती हुई
दीवार से लग ठहर गई है

मैं ओट में खड़ा
अपनी आस बांधे हुए
की शायद आज
तुम्हारी हाँ सुन पाऊंगा

देहली पर रुक कर
तुम्हारी बाहों से उतरती
धूप का साहारा ले
मेरी नज़रें तुम्हे तलाशती
पाँव पर आ कर रुकीं
और तभी
साँस भी गले में
रुक सी गई -
जब महावरी पाँव पर
तुम्हारी एक खुश्क सी
आँसू की बूँद
बस एक छोटी सी महावरी धार ही
अपने साथ मिटा सकी

Memories - life affirming!

Our memories - they are like the rear view mirror! We are driving ahead in life but we have to constantly look behind, or at least have the ability & mechanism to look behind and ahead. It provides us the view - that is what they say :)

I still remember those quaint afternoons, tranquil and really quiet summer afternoons in Patna by the banks of Ganga. Summers used to be really warm with temperatures sometimes crossing the 43 degree barrier. But our compound had those beautiful big trees, on the elevation by the Ganga's side. A steamer passing by, used to look desolate - at least to our curious minds! Ganga was wide and long...the steamer used to ferry people to some stations like Hathwa etc every day. It all seems too distant now to be true. Sitting by the river side is a romantic feeling now. In those, it was the only activity. We would sit on the steps with our feet inside - cool water would slowly make us feel so comfortable.

There was also this small boat of one elderly "Kali babu". We would pester him all the time to give us a ride...and, at times, he used to relent. It was incomparable joy. Bouncing on Ganag's water, pushing our palms underneath, trying to catch glimpse of a huge fish...and sometimes, to our horror and dismay - a dead body of human floating by! Remarkably different! Utterly distatsteful!

One time, Kali Babu was large hearted enough to take us across to the other side of the river. It happened to be water melon season. Melons are extremely tasty in the alluvial soil and when they grow by the river banks, they taste like no other melon. We jumped around, picked up melons of our choice and hogged on it. I still remember the farmer who stood there watching us - and my heart skipped a few beats. Then he slowly walked over to us, and very lovingly patted our backs and ran his hands over our hair and gave us some more. Where has the generosity gone these days? Perhaps it hasn't gone anywhere, we just don't try :)

Time does funny things to us - it leaves memory imprints that are inexplicable. Words seem meaningless and measured.

Some memories are life-changing, but many memories do something more important to us - they are "life-affirming"!

Yellu-Bella -- Take in flavours of life!

Uttarayan (Kite flying) for some, Bihu for someone else, Sankranti for some, Pongal for someone else, Lohri for some, Maghe Sakrati for someone else...Thingyan in Myanmar and Songran in Thailand!

All the same - festival welcoming the celestial transition of sun into Capricorn! Time of the year when days will begin to become longer, days when you can witness loads of sugarcane being harvested! We, as kids, used to run into the fileds during the harvesting season to pick up canes with a bunch of friends, and spend hours biting into the fibre and relishing the sweetness! "Tilkut" in Patna, "yellu-Bella" at home (wonderful mixture of sesame seeds, jaggery, etc...unique blend and taste), tasty sweet pongal...women running around with their own rituals of excahnging "yellu-bella"!

Go to Gujarat/Rajasthan and you will enjoy this beautiful day - people pitch themselves at the terrace and roofs, enjoy flying kites with cheers and smile on their face. They enjoy Uttarayan with sound of 'Kaypo che' (I cut the kites) . Azure blue sky now resembles a rainbow with kites of all colors, shapes and sizes floating around vying to cut each other. People of Gujarat also enjoy this festival by having food called "Tal-sankadi" and "chiki" (Sweets), which is like sesame bar and peanut bar. The festival of Uttarayan is magnificent and festival for all people. It is festival of gathering and having fun together. The fun flows continuously till whole night, as kite lovers enjoy flying white kites in dark night.

In South India - it is pongal/Sankranti. In Kannada, there is a saying - "yellu-bella tindu, volleya maatanu aadi"...roughly translated, it means..."eat sesame-jaggery and say only good things"! It is more an affirmation of the fact that our words mean a lot - it should be measured and always pleasant! Apart from the general festivities, the cultural aspects are intriguing and wonderful. Families with girl-children can especially enjoy the exchanges of "yellu-bella", turmeric & vermillion, flowers...and then the fragrant pongal to devour!

सर्वेश्वर दयाल सक्सेना - निराले कवि!

Sarveshwar Dayal Saxena, the poet who brought in the 'prayogvaad' (experimentalism) poetry in Hindi - he haunts me all the time. All his poems quietly reach in and keep knocking all the time.

सब कुछ कह लेने के बाद
कुछ ऐसा है जो रह जाता है
तुम उसको मत वाणी देना।

वह छाया है मेरे पावन विश्वासों की,
वह पूँजी है मेरे गूंगे अभ्यासों की,
यह सारी रचना का क्रम है,
बस इतना ही मैं हूँ,
बस उतना ही मेरा आश्रय है,
तुम उसको मत वाणी देना

यह पीड़ा है जो हमको, तुमको, सबको अपनाती है
सच्चाई है -
अंजानो को भी हाथ पकड़ चलना सिखलाती है,
यह गति है - हर गति को नया जन्म देती है,
आस्था है - रेती में भी नौका खेती है,
वह टूटे मन का सामर्थ है,
यह भटकी आत्मा का अर्थ है,
तुम उनको मत वाणी देना

वह मुझसे या मेरे युग से भी ऊपर है,
वह आदि मानव की भाँती है भू पर है,
बर्बरता में भी देवत्व की कड़ी है वह,
इसीलिए ध्वंस और नाश से बड़ी है वह,
अंतराल है वह - नया सूर्य उगा देती है,
नए लोक, नई सृष्टि, नए स्वप्ना देती है,
वह मेरी कृति है
पर मैं उसकी अनुकृति हूँ,
तुम उसको मत वाणी देना

---------
तुम्हारी मुस्कान
कोहरे से छान कर नहीं
सीधी धूप सी आती है
जैसे सुबह सुबह
चिडियों का गान
तुम्हारी मुस्कान

--------------------

One of the very favourite ones that I always enjoy reading

काँच की बन्द खिड़कियों के पीछे
तुम बैठी हो घुटनों में मुँह छिपाए।
क्या हुआ यदि हमारे-तुम्हारे बीच
एक भी शब्द नहीं।
मुझे जो कहना है कह जाऊँगा
यहाँ इसी तरह अदेखा खड़ा हुआ,
मेरा होना मात्र एक गन्ध की तरह
तुम्हारे भीतर-बाहर भर जाएगा।
क्योंकि तुम जब घुटनों से सिर उठाओगी
तब बाहर मेरी आकृति नहीं
यह धुंधलाती शाम
और आँच पर जगी एक हल्की-सी भाप
देख सकोगी
जिसे इस अंधेरे में
तुम्हारे लिए पिघलकर
मैं छोड़ गया होऊँगा।

Vaikuntha

A beautiful lady, dressed traditionally was waiting at the bus stop. There was a little girl holding her right hand index finger - I presumed her to be the daughter of the beautiful lady! There is rush at all the temples in the city. Most of the temples where Venkat resides are bursting with sentient beings! Today is that day of the year - you seek blessings of the 'lord of seven hills' and you can safely assume to have found a way to the 'gate of heaven'...

I was sure that the little girl was going to the temple to seek blessings! Odd, yet beautiful!My mother is a pious lady. She also went to Varadarajaswamy temple to offer her prayers and seek Vishnu's blessings. Vaikuntha must really be a good place to be in as so many of them crave! Walking long distances, hanging precariously on the footsteps of the bus, waiting in serpentine queues, yelling, pushing & moving on - all of that to reach the "Vaikuntha dwara"!

I have not been at the threshold of that door yet. Or maybe I have, I wouldn't know. I have this strange affliction that carries on with me - of not knowing it all until it passes! Wait a minute, isn't that true for everyone? Oh well, I'll let that pass...and look at the multitude milling around temple doors to seek a peaceful 'passing away'.