Girls Only!!!

Girls, if you came here after reading my mail then I hope you know what to do. So start pouring in your experiences. Whatever you type will not be visible to others as I wont accept the comments. No need to type your correct name, no validation is done. The case is same with your email ID, no need to give any correct email ID. I am eagerly waiting for your responses. Please be honest as everything would be anonymous. Cheers……..

बेतरतीब ख्याल-ख़ुशी?

‘मुझमे ही वो खुशबू थी जिससे तुने मिलवाया था|’

कभी आपके साथ जीवन में ऐसा हुआ है कि आपने किसी चीज़ को पाने के लिए जी तोड़ कोशिश की हो और आपको वो न मिली हो (यहाँ मैं सिर्फ आपके प्रेमी/प्रेमिका को पा  लेने की बात नहीं कर रहा हूँ)? अगर हाँ तो ज़रा याद कीजिये कैसा लगा था उस वक़्त| ऐसा लगता है मनो उससे ज्यादा महत्वपूर्ण जीवन में कुछ भी नहीं| उस वक़्त हमे कई लोगो से यह सुनने को मिलता है कि तो क्या हुआ कि तुम्हे यह नहीं मिला, ज़िन्दगी आगे बढ़ने का नाम है| हम यह जानते है, मगर क्यों हमारा दिल यह मानने को तैयार नहीं होता?

कहा जाता है कि हम अपने जीवनके कुछ खूबसूरत पल सिर्फ इस लिए गवाँ देते है क्यूंकि उस वक़्त हम जो ना मिल सका उसके लिए तड़प रहे होते हैं|  परेशान होते हैं, खुद से ही एक विद्रोह कर रहे होते हैं| असली ख़ुशी किसी चीज़ को पा लेने में नहीं, असली ख़ुशी मनुष्य के अन्दर ही कहीं छुपी होती है| और यह ख़ुशी असीमित है, अनंत है,  अपार है| हम यह समझते है पर क्यों इसे अपने जीवन में नहीं उतार पाते है? क्यों जी करता है कि किसी भी तरह, किसी भी तरह हम वो पा ले जो न मिल सका?

हम जिन चीज़ों कि पीछे भागते हैं वो कहीं न कहीं हमारे मस्तिष्क में छिपी यादों का अविर्भाव होता है| और इन चीज़ों का पा लेना हमारे अंदर छिपी ख़ुशी के उत्सर्जन का एक बहाना होता है| फिर भी क्यों मन में कहीं एक टीस रह जाती है, जो रह रह के किसी चीज़ के ना होने का एहसास कराती रहती है? हमारे अन्दर जो ख़ुशी छिपी है उसे बाहर लेन के लिए हमे संसारिकता का दास क्यों बनना पड़ता है? क्या उस ख़ुशी को बाहर लाना इतना कठिन है कि हम खुद चाह के भी उसे बाहर नहीं ला सकते?

हमारे अन्दर हमेशा इस सच को अपनाने के प्रति हमेशा एक विद्रोह होता है| एक ऐसा विद्रोह जो हमेशा इस बात पे अटल रहता है कि अगर तुम्हे ख़ुशी मिल सकती है तो फलां वास्तु कि प्रप्ति से बस| इसके अलावा तुम्हे कुछ खुश नहीं कर सकता|  जरूरी नहीं कि यह वास्तु कोई मूल्यवान वास्तु हो|  यह कुछ भी हो सकती है| और कभी कभी तो यह वास्तु कोई वास्तु ना होकर सिर्फ कोई एक घटना या एक बात या कुछ भी हो सकती है|  ऐसा क्यों होता है? और फिर अंत में ऐसा क्यों लगने लगता है कि ऐसा मेरे साथ ही क्यों होता है? और बाद में यह भावना इस में क्यों बदल जाती है है कि मेरे साथ तो ऐसा ही होता है?

क्या जीवन में खुश रहना इतना कठिन है? क्या मनुष्य कभी सच-मुच में खुश होता है? क्या खुश होना इतना कठिन है?

Untitled story

She was there again. Every now and then she will come up to this manager sitting next to me and talk about senseless things. She was about middle age 35 or something. The manager was a bit younger, I don’t know what exactly was his job but most of the time he would be free to entertain this regular guest of his. She was talking about some problem in her newly bought i-phone. I was trying to concentrate on reading the project document but her voice was a distraction. Since I have got into IT industry I have developed this strange ability to read without understanding a word. I wonder how this happens in the brain, but I was doing the same thing. I had read the same page three times but not even understood a single sentence. I felt like getting up and slapping her, she talked about the silliest and the most senseless things. It was very frustrating. I finally decided to give up. I locked my desktop and got up to go to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee or tea or whatever. I was standing in the lift lobby, I was on 8th floor. In the IT industry the architecture and the scale of the building presented the reputation of your company, ours was a 13 floor building. It had a capacity of 8,000 employees; this was what we were told. Nobody would bother to verify the correctness of the figure. In the industry you are told one thing from the management, the other from your boss and what you experience is completely different. Sometimes I thought even the number of floors can differ from what we are being told because no body actually goes from one floor to another using stairs. We all work a part of a large machine. We have our fixed coordinates of time and space; we fit in at the correct coordinates to keep the machine working properly. The only places we go apart from our workstation are restrooms and cafeteria. Waiting for the lift is an irritating experience and it aggravates when one after the other lifts pass in front of you without a place to squeeze in, and even if there is space the ones inside would never accommodate. Finally giving up on lift I took the stairs to the 13th floor. Thankfully the floors I had to climb were 5, which verified the number of floors, at least between 8 and 13. It was rush hour; 5 o’clock was the time that saw the peek crowd at the beverages counter. There was a queue. I hate queues, but either you take it or you don’t. It took me 10 minutes to just take a cup of the hot beverage. I didn’t know whether it was tea or coffee. I didn’t care; I took the first cup handed to me by the vendor. As I took the first sip in I felt that sugar was less in the drink, but I would have to go back to the crowded counter to put sugar in so I drank it like that only. Wind was blowing hard and I could see stretches of the industrial area of Bangalore. As far as I could see there were offices. Lakhs of professionals daily went to these offices and get absorbed. They get absorbed like they don’t exist only thing that exist is the building, what works inside it, you may never know. The ones which were under construction exposed what exactly were these structures. They were just a set of pillars, a floor that serves as a ceiling for floors below and a ceiling that serves as floors for floors above. This structure concealed in a cage of reflective glasses made an office, some companies need a departure from this so they change the shape in which the floors are made but the basic floor, pillar and ceiling pattern is always there. Most of the building sported a set of antennas of different shape. They connect the things that are inside to the outer world. The outer world comprised of clients and their networks, company portals, mailboxes, online forums, teleconferencing and what not, not forgetting the quintessential Google. These buildings were like teleporting terminals. The time you get in you will be teleported to a different world, a world which is not present exactly as you perceive it. Its all like a big illusion and nobody questions its existence. My drink was over sooner than I had expected. I wanted to spend more time here but work was calling. I went back to my workstation, to my right coordinate – 8th floor 6th ODC 55th cubicle 9 AM to 6 PM. Thankfully she was gone. It was already 5:32. Soon I will leave to get back to my temporary abode. It was a painful job to travel from point A to point B in a city like Bangalore. The problem here was intensified by the complete dependency on the road transport system. There was no other option. Although the city authorities are coming up with metro rail, but it addresses the needs of the areas which are central to the city, not these areas which are situated on the outskirts. Here daily a mob of software professionals raged the streets in their daily quest to get back to their dwelling places. I was no exception. But I had to sit at my office till 6 o’clock. I sat there without any real work to do. Last week the traceability matrix was sent to review to the customer and I am waiting for the approval. My manager (not the one who sits besides me) is demanding some kind of productive work from my side till the matrix is approved. “You can’t sit like that for whole day” he said. I sat on my chair watching at the coconut trees. My cubicle was just next to the large cavity in which glasses were fitted. This glass window marked the periphery of the floor. Glass is such an amazing substance. You can see everything on the other side, but can’t hear or say. Sometimes I wonder why they have put glass in building. As I was watching at the trees, without thinking anything just then an eagle flew in front of me. The eagle was a regular visitor; it came daily in search of its prey in the coconut grooves. Sometimes it would come early in the morning but mostly mid noon was the hunting time. It would keep flying till the last ray of sun shined. It would soar high then suddenly dive down as it has spotted a prey but came back empty-handed. I had never seen it with a prey. I was watching it flying there from the other side of glass. I think it was making some kind of noise but glass prevented any transmission of sound waves between the sides. But I could imagine the sound made by the eagle. I had heard it before, when I was young there used to be an eagle that came near our house to hunt. I still remember the shrill sound it made. The coconut groves were swinging, it was clear indication that wind was blowing out side but inside nobody could feel it. The air conditioning cleverly eliminated any disturbances produced due to change in the weather. The people working inside were least bothered about the outside weather. The things that mattered the most were client, deadlines, man hours and billability. As long as they were inside, hell may break on the outside they don’t care. They were departed for the time being. But as soon as they came out of the offices, they would start getting affected by the outside world. Some would comment about the traffic, some would get irritated by the weather and some by the distances they have to travel. The roads at rush hour looked like a marching line of ants. It’s like the ants are vacating their one colony and migrating to the other. A long never ending trail of vehicles was formed on the roads; Busses, cars, cabs, bikes and what not. This time was soon approaching. As I looked around I noticed that most of the people had left the office and there was only this HR guy sitting in the far corner of the ODC. I collected my things and started putting them into the bag. I was in no hurry, I my motions were sedated. I knew even if I hurried through this the traffic would get the better of me. It was a long walk till the gate of the IT Park. It consisted of 5 humongous structures which hosted several company offices. There were lots of ways to go out but the management had defined a specific path which was to be followed while exiting the IT Park. As I got out the park I saw a swarm of professionals waiting for busses. Most of the people took city busses for coming to and going back from the park. I waited there for a suitable bus to come. An air conditioned bus stopped in front of me and the automated doors opened, a breeze of cool air brushed my face. I got into it; here in Bangalore there were categories of busses available. Majorly two categories existed. First ones were the simple busses with ordinary fare used by the common people. Second ones were the air conditioned busses targeted to the professional gentry. The fares of these could be as high as three times the ordinary ones. But at that cost they provided more comfort, better travel, air conditioning which would seal you off from the traffic, chaos and hostile weather of the outside. I had no reservations about any of the two. I just get into the one which comes first to me. It has been like this since a long time. The company which I am working for was the first to recruit me, I never tried for another job, and presently I was in no position of doing so. I had a legal bond of 2 years with this company before which if I left I will have to pay a huge sum of money. Out of the 2 years more than one year had passed away and I wasn’t bothered about the rest of the time. It would also pass as it had; the best thing about time is nothing can stop it. Good or bad it will pass. As I was settling inside the bus the weather started changing vigorously. The wind that was blowing had stopped and the evening sky was engulfed by the thick cover of clouds. It was going to rain. Sun still registered some of its presence through the horizon, from where the dying rays of light were coming out. I felt bit lucky as I boarded the bus well before it started to rain. It made me feel good for sometime. The bus was now going in a wild fashion with breaking, stopping and then accelerating every now and then. The traffic was mounting and it was not too far that the bus went before encountering the first of the jams. There would be many more, bigger and nastier than this one. Fridays and Mondays saw a larger number of jams and it was a Monday. I could see the other vehicles through the large glass windows of the bus. The seats were at a higher position which helped in a clear view. Some of the drivers would’ve turned the engines of their vehicles off but I was not able to make out as the no sounds from the outside reached me. I was thinking about what I will do when I get back to my flat. Lots of pending work was there to be done. Loads of clothes remained as this weekend I spent most of my time sleeping and watching movie. I had to finish the book which I had borrowed form the library its due date was nearing. I had lots of messages from friends on various social networking sites. The rain had already started. It was a heavy shower. The water trickled down the window glasses and the lights of the vehicles outside came sieved through the flowing water making abstract patterns inside the bus. In a cab, standing just next to the bus, there were three girls. They were also going back from work as I was. But they were happy, they were chatting about something and having fun. One of them turned towards me and saw me looking at them. I was too involved in thought to notice that and I kept looking at them. Perhaps I noticed it but I was too lazy to let my mind comprehend that. As she saw me looking at her, she told her mates and one of them smiled looking at me. This time I able to react and turned around. The person sitting next to me was listening to some songs. He had the earphones inserted and his i-pod in his hand. One characteristic of software professional is that you will always find them equipped with gadgets. May it be the latest phone or the latest music player Most of the people travelling in the bus were listening to music, all of them had earphones inserted in their ears. As I turned around to face the person sitting next to me he gave an annoyed look. He didn’t like me encroaching his personal space. It was better I looked out side the window. The girls were again busy talking. The driver driving their cab was dressed in white attire and was least worried about their talks, maybe be because he didn’t understood the language. In Bangalore there were enough numbers of people speaking almost all the languages spoken in India. Kannada, Hindi, English, Telegu, Malyalam, Tamil, Marathi, Bengali, Orriya were to name some of them. It was not necessary that you knew all of them so there was a healthy probability that the driver didn’t understand the language the girls were talking in. Perhaps he was not interested in it; he looked too annoyed from the traffic jam. The traffic jam was clearing up and vehicles started moving. My stop was nearing I had to get off the bus. The rain had stopped. Finally I got back after getting stuck up in more than 4 or 5 traffic jams. After getting home the biggest question is about the food. What do you eat? I had a cook previously but discontinued him. Off late I have developed this ability to go without having dinner. And now I was frequently practicing this. I had some of the bread slices left from last night’s meal. I also found a little butter so it was enough to satisfy my appetite. After I finished my meal I made a mental list of the works which were pending. I first soaked the 2 shirts and then took out the book which I had to finish before Saturday. It was a collection of short stories of Rabindranath Tagore. His stories are so simple, yet so intriguing. They are mostly set in old Bengal but are true even today. As I started reading the book I lost the sense of time, it was just before 11 o’clock that I realized that I have to wash the shirts and go to bed. My day started at 7:30 in the morning. Unwillingly I closed the book and got up to wash the shirts. The clothes were done. I brushed my teeth and lied down on the mattress. I tried to sleep but the pictures of the girls sitting in the cab kept coming back to me. They were friends, and they were together. I was a bit jealous. When I was in college I too, like them, used to have fun with my friends. But all that is an old story now. I was here in Bangalore with almost no friends. Initially when I came to Bangalore the loneliness haunted me. I was in a mental shock. I thought of running away from all this. I was in a breakdown. No friends, new place and first job all these things together took the better of me. But slowly I got used to all this. Now I was acclimatized with the things. But a slight desire to get back along with my friends and family still remained. I was trying hard to get over it and was largely successful as now I hardly had any friends here and caught up with my old friends very rarely. I didn’t visit my home since last 5 months and was not even feeling like going. I was completely molded into the person this city wanted me to be. But when I saw the girls having fun amongst them it brought back the feelings that I was trying to win over. I didn’t want to be overcome by them. I didn’t want to loose. But the memories of those times flooded my mind. I can remember the fun we had back in college and even in school. The happy life I had back home was enticing me to go back, the same feeling that I had when I came here was coming back to me. With this maelstrom going in my mind I didn’t realize when I feel asleep

The GHPS Chronicles

The Secret Cult

 

So, I am back with another funny incident to tell you from my school. It comes from the time when I was in class 10^th. There were six of us- Ankur (Gaur), Arvind, Gauraw, Pradumn, Me, Sandeep and Vishal (also called as Mama). We used to hang around together as we thought we were the sanest people in the class. Others consisted of characters such as, Some transport company owner’s sons who were least concerned about studies and the thing that mattered most for them were there looks, A mad guy who nobody knows why was always bullying students as well as teachers, Some guys who had an established business and were going to carry on with it after school and were just passing the time nowhere but in the school and Girls don’t need a mentioning (no offence intended).

During the time for lunch all the students were to go out on the ground; nobody should remain in the building. We all were forced out from the classes. Everybody ate their lunch on the ground and spent their time there only. But it’s not fun being everybody, so we always wanted a departure from the regular thing. We found a place that hardly anybody knew or visited. It was our secret place. The layout of our school is difficult to explain but what I can tell you is there are 4 halls made in front of the main building which can be used for different activities and the first of the halls and the main building both touched the boundary of the ground. From behind the first hall was a half built swimming pool, which was in that condition since time immemorial. The pool counted for length of one hall and after that, behind the hall there was an empty space which was not used. Mango trees grew there and there were stairs made on the backside of halls for entry on the stage in times of some function. These stairs served as our dining place and everyday we used to go there and have our lunch in peace and serenity away from all the chaos and ruckus that went on the ground.

In those days when you are young you are captivated by such things as a secret society or a thing that is just between you and your friends, especially in your adolescence. The secret lunch place proved to be the bonding for our undeclared secret society. Although nobody said it but it was there, all of us were a member of this group which had its headquarters behind the halls and met everyday at lunch. This was our place, I being the most enthusiastic about such things (thanks to my addiction for Hollywood movies and adventure novels), thought that there has to be one thing that unites us. One thing that differentiated our identities and would always be there to make us feel belonged.

 

This was achieved by a slogan which was coined after the brand of a water tank. Yes, a water tank. It was iconic because we also had a secret place to drink water after having our lunch, where a plastic water tank was placed with a water purifier attached to it. The school had a separate primary section for kids studying in classes of nursery, LKG and UKG. It was situated adjoining the halls, but no one from higher classes was permitted to go there. At the main entrance of the primary section a guard was always there to stop students of higher classes going there. But we found a back entry into the primary section which went through our dinning place (We also had a secret way to enter into the school building during the lunch time). After finishing the lunch we all went to the primary section through the secret way and there we drank water from the water tank in which water purifier was attached (we did this because apart from this one we trusted no other water purifier in the school which were broken most of the time). The brand of the plastic water tank was ‘Sarita’ nobody among us had ever heard that brand before. Because of the peculiarity of the brand name that place became to be known as ‘Sarita ki tanki’. It was another thing which was limited to our access only and symbolized us. So one day while drinking water from there I suddenly had an illumination.

“You know what, it is very unique” I said

“What is unique?” asked Ankur

“The name of the manufacturer. Sarita. Have you ever heard a water tank brand with that name?” I questioned them.

“Yeah we know that. What’s new in it? What is there that you find it that amazing?” asked Vishal.

“No we must do something with this, like make a ritual of some sort. What I propose every time before drinking water from here we will say Yo Sarita” I made my suggestion. I know it will sound weird and silly but it was a figment of my fantasy at that time. Initially the proposal was not received very well. Rest of them laughed and made fun but gradually it sank in. Sometime just for fun somebody would say Yo Sarita before drinking water and then everybody laughed, I was also making fun my silliness that brought about this slogan. Slowly but surely we started using it. Sarita ki tanki slowly became a regular spot.

During my school time, especially till class 10^th, I had a flare for being on leave. Hardly went a week when I came to the school on all 6 days. My average per week was 4 days of school and 2 days of leave. It was another day when I was on leave. My friends had finished their lunch and went to Sarita ki tanki. After quenching the thirst they were coming back. On the way back one of our seniors Manpreet Singh Sond was sitting there with his girlfriend in a corner of the passage between the halls. Vishal was shouting something and suddenly he cried out the slogan, the water ritual Yo Sarita, as they were passing by Sond. You may say it coincidence or you may say it a bad luck, the name of his girlfriend was also SARITA.

Manpreet Singh Sond had a reputation of a crack head. He was a prominent figure in the school and everybody was intimidated with him. He was the DADA of the school. As soon as he heard that he got up in fury (I wished I was there) and came up to Vishal.

“What? You think you are very smart? Haan?” he asked angrily. “You know with whom you are messing?” he was boiling. Vishal and rest of the guys were clueless what had happened. “Why were you shouting my girlfriend’s name like this? You think you will get away?” He asked Vishal. Now things started to clear up a bit, his girlfriend was also Sarita and so was the water tank. Somebody from the guys tried to clear up the confusion but he was not buying it. As I was not there, so I cannot surely tell, but what everybody else said that Vishal was beaten up by Sond. Although Vishal refused that he was beaten up and maintained the statement that he only held Vishal’s hand and twisted it. Anyways fortunately or unfortunately lunch was over and Sond left Vishal for the next day asking him to meet him on the ground.

Next day I came to school unaware of the happenings of the previous day. Vishal was not there. “Where is Vishal?” I asked. “He will not come” answered Arvind in a strange manner. “Why?” I inquired as it was only me who went on a leave without any reason. “Sarita” answered Pradumn “Sarita?” I was confused. “Yes, because of our Sarita ki tanki” added Ankur. They explained me the whole incident and we all were laughing for the whole day. That day during the lunch time Sond did come with his friends on the ground. We tried to explain him the whole situation and tried to clarify, this time he was bit calm and took in what we said. We had to take him to the spot to prove that there is a brand of water tank named Sarita. For next three days Vishal didn’t come to school and nobody ever mentioned the name Sarita, at least not when we had other guys around.

The GHPS Chronicles

The Gift

I completed my high school from Guru Harkishan Public School, Indore. As with everyone, high school accounts for lots of interesting and memorable events. Some of those moments remain with you for a life time and when ever you meet your old pals those are the things that you remember and laugh about. This is one such narration.

 

It was another day in the school. We were in Class 11^th. As always we had to go for the morning assembly, which was long and seemed boring (now even that boring assembly seems dear to you). Anyhow we tried to skip it. This year in school was different. My friend Arvind Kothari was the Vice head boy of the school. One of his duties was to go into each classroom and ask the monitor to take the students to the assembly and also checking no one remains behind in the classes. This meant he must skip assembly so that he can make sure nobody stays back. I being a close friend always helped him and this was the duty anyone would like to share. Although I was nowhere in the school parliament that year but I accompanied him in his morning duty and every other duty that needed an absence from the class.

 

Arvind was (still is) an influential figure in the school. Never went an year when he didn’t top the class and no body, not even the principal questioned his supremacy. Everyone was sure that he will do something big and so he did. Presently in IIT-K he is in final year of his M.Tech (Integrated) and has done numerous activities, some of which I am aware and some of not, in the IIT. So, he was my best pal in the school. Apart from being a brainy he had a lighter side to too. He was always good at playing pranks and what we call in Hindi Mazze lene me he was brilliant (But he was never good at the receiving end of the pranks and still isn’t. although he may not admit this and go on disagreeing).

 

So it was assembly time and we stayed back as usual. We were waiting for Gauraw Paliwal. He was the third one, completed the trio. He had came a year or so ago from the town of Kharguan.  He is the kind of a person who never thinks a thing bad. He is absolutely guileless. There is no vice at all in him, any one can come and take undue advantage of him. He is like a hermit, and followed the three principles of Gandhi (I don’t think they need a mention here). And surprisingly his birthday is on december 25th. He used to come late as he stayed at Gitabahvan which was far from the school.

That morning Arvind and me were sitting in the class as he entered. He had an interesting incident to tell from the last night. It was about Ankur Mathur. Ankur mathur another figure in the class. I am sure most of the classmates wouldn’t even noticed his existence (except girls). He was very varying in his character. You can call him wishy-washy. He was found of girls, all boys are, but his was a different case. All the time he used to roam around the girls wagging his tail. Girls were clever they knew he would do what ever they ask for. So, they used him as a servant. He used to bring them the reagents in chemistry lab, used to perform experiments in physics lab and sometimes even carry their bags. He was also in Biology stream and so was Gauraw.

So, last night he came to Gauraw’s house, he lived near by, to give Gauraw something. Ankur was not coming to school the next day and it was birthday of a classmate (a girl), whom Ankur wanted to give a gift. Let’s call her Rewa (changed name). Ankur was not coming because he had to go somewhere with his father. He considered Rewa a good friend, although the case was not same with her. She was a Punjabi Girl in section A of class and was also in biology stream. She was what I think, a bit conservative and most girls are, especially in school. Ankur came up to Gauraw and gave him a small box wrapped in beautiful pink and purple gift paper to give it Rewa. As I have written earlier Gauraw was a noble soul. He never saw any wrong in anything. Without thinking he agreed to do the job. He talked rarely to girls and that also was limited to studies. On asking, whether she knows about Ankur sending a gift for her, Ankur had told Gauraw that he has talked to Rewa about the gift and there will be no problem. In morning when the whole school was out for assembly the three of us were sitting and discussing what to do with the gift.

 

As soon as the assembly finished the students started coming back. Rewa also came she was happy as it was her birthday. Everyone was greeting her and then went Gauraw. Smelling some goof up me and Arvind were standing right there to see how he does it.

“Happy birthday Rewa” he said. “Oh thank you” she replied smiling. “Oh I have the gift with me” said Gauraw “Which gift?” asked Rewa with astonishment.

“The one that Ankur sent” Gauraw explained. “Didn’t he tell you about it?” he was also puzzled. “No please Gauraw, I am not interested in this.” She was agitated. She was angry and went away without listening to a word.

Arvind and I burst into laughter as Gauraw was misunderstood. He was baffled and was not expecting to be misunderstood to this extent. He was confused. “I knew something of this sort will happen” I said. “Oh thank you then why didn’t you tell me in the first place” Gauraw asked angrily “We would’ve missed the fun” I said with unsuccessful attempts to conceal my laugh. “You don’t have any brains? Why did you accept to do it?” asked Arvind. “I thought he and Rewa were good friends and she would have no problems” Gauraw clarified. “Firstly, if that was the case why didn’t you tell her that it is from Ankur” I inquired “You were there, you think she gave me time for that?” Gauraw retaliated “OK but don’t you know Ankur’s reputation among girls and what girls think of him. How on earth did you think that they were good friends” Arvind added. “I wonder what’s in that box.” I showed my curiosity. “Don’t even think of opening that box” said Gauraw snatching the box from my hands. He knew my intentions

“OK now what to do with the gift?” I asked. There was a mischief playing around in my mind. “What? Give it back to mathur” suggested Arvind. “OK, else we can just take it and keep it in Rewa’s bag. I mean why bother it’s her and Ankur’s matter. He asked Gauraw to give the gift and she refused, we can just put it there and when she will see it she will know that Ankur, not Gauraw has sent it.”  I tried to put my point. “I mean if we don’t give her the gift she will be in a wrong impression that Gauraw was maroing  chance on her.” I reinforced myself. It took Gauraw sometime to decide but Arvind agreed readily. He smelled the same scent that I smelled.

So it was final that we were going to keep that cursed packet in her bag as soon as we get a chance. She was in section A and we were in section B, so neither of us had slightest idea of her bag. But we had contacts. Amit and Akshat, the inseparables. When ever you see one of them be sure the other one is going to be around, never was a time that they went different ways. These days they were accompanied by Arvind’s cousin Akhilesh who had joined the school the same year. We had a great rapport with them, so I explained the situation and asked them to just signal which bag is hers, when the right time comes.

The most important thing was that we had to figure out the right time when she was not around. As the assembly had just ended, chaos ruled the school. Juniors stormed the corridors shouting, seniors stood outside the classes some talking with their friends others checking out the girls. This was the right time; Rewa was out with her friends. We entered the class, Amit signaled us where her bag was kept and before anyone could see I slide the gift inside her bag. Our job was done, Gauraw was happy that the box was gone. We came back and school went on as always.

Now as Gauraw was in Biology (and so was Rewa), he had to go to other classroom to attend Bio classes and we stayed back for math classes. Immediately after the class we had lunch. So, at lunch Gauraw came looking very depressed, sad and puzzled. “What happened” I asked. He looked up to me with an angry glare and then took out his lunch box. “c’mon tell us…” Arvind tried to share his grief “….who else will you tell” he said. “This, this rascal, scoundrel Rohan, all because of him” Gauraw shouted. I somewhat understood what had happened. But this was a direct attack on me “What? What have I done? Tell me” I retaliated with fury. “One thing is sure from now on I will never subscribe to his slippery schemes. You know what happened?” Now he was addressing Arvind “When I reached the lab (Biology lab, for classes) Modi madam (The Bio Teacher) was sitting there with the gift on the table, immediately I knew it was my biggest mistake to agree to his scheme” He said pointing at me. “She asked me what is this Gauraw? We thought you were a sincere student and came here to study. Did you come to school to do this? You have disappointed us. When she refused to take it you kept it in her bag! How shameless you are? My god.. And Blah blah… I even said that it was sent by Ankur…” He stopped in between and shook his head looking down at the ground “What happened then?” I asked as I was gaining more and more interest in the incident as it neared the climax. Gauraw looked angrily at me “What do you expect?” he was furious “She said if it was from Ankur then why did you put it in her bag? You should’ve kept it and given it back to Ankur. Now I had no answers to this….” He was devastated as his reputation was the biggest thing for him. He was rebuked in front of the whole batch. “But you told us that this has to reach Rewa. And that is what I did.” I clarified my position. “I never said that” Gauraw went ballistic. Arvind was bursting into laughter and I couldn’t control it for long. It were 10 sec or so and Gauraw was into it too. “You know Modi Madam didn’t talk to me for the whole session” Gauraw said with a innocence of a child who comes complaining about his friends. “Don’t worry she will soon forget” I assured Gauraw. “We will clarify the whole thing with Rewa and ask her to tell this to Modi madam, she knows that it was from Mathur.” Suggested Arvind. And the same happened we had to make the situation clear to Rewa and then to Modi madam but in the end the matter was resolved.

And now whenever the three of us meet this is one incident nobody misses to mention

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बेतरतीब ख्याल 1

This is a collection of urdu poetry that sprang out of my mind at different times. I have collected them all and here i publish them

Ishq

इश्क़ वो भी फ़रमाते हैं पर यह वो हमसे कभी फ़रमाते नहीं,
कहलाये हम आशिक़ तो हैं पर माशूक़ वो कहलाते नहीं|

Kaun

अर्श में वो हैं ज़मी में वो हैं,
आफ़ताब में वो हैं, चांदनी में वो है,
ख़ुशी में वो हैं, गमी में वो हैं,
 ज़्यादती में वो हैं, कमी में वो हैं,
तपिश में वो हैं, नमी में वो हैं,
अब तो हम ही में वो है, अब तो हम ही में वो है|

Vaham

रहने दे थोड़ा वहम इस खुशफहमी  का ही है नतीजा, 
कि हम तेरे दर से आज भी गुज़रते हैं|

Mohur

वफ़ा से ऐतबार तो कबका उठ चूका था ऐ खुदा,
तुने तो बस उस पर अपनी मोहर लगा दी|

Zindagi

मुफलिसी में कट रही है जैसी भी है ज़िन्दगी
हमको तो ऐसी पसंद है जैसी भी हो ज़िन्दगी|

 

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना अब ना किसी के दिल में है

Here i publish my own version of Sarfaroshi ki tamanna. This may seem a poem out of the movie ‘Gulaal’ but it is actually just an inspiration or what ever you may say. Decide for yourself. Although incomplete i couldnt wait to publish it

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना  अब ना किसी के दिल में है,

दिल ढूँढता किसी फिक्रमंद को मज़मा-ऐ-कातिल में है|    

 

न रगों में है रवानी न लहू में इंक़लाब,
मर गए जो थे भगत सिंह मर गए जो थे सुभाष|

आज का नौजवाँ अश्फाक न बिस्मिल में है|
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना  अब ना किसी के दिल में है|

 

छेद ही अब दिख रहे, पानी अब न रुक रहा,
हमको बस दौलत से मतलब डुबे कश्ती या जहां|
मौत अब तो  आनी आरजू-ऐ-साहिल में है| 

सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना  अब ना किसी के दिल में है|

 

कौम का कोई नहीं हर शक्स अब है अलहदा 
आलम-ऐ-खुदगर्जी देखे तो डर जाए वो ख़ुदा|

आबरू मुल्क की तवायफ़ गिदडो की महफ़िल में है|
सरफ़रोशी की तमन्ना  अब ना किसी के दिल में है|

 

बारिश

आज बारिश हो रही है|  मैं दफ्तर के अंदर बैठ के देख रहा हूँ, और सोच रहा हूँ की क्या मेरे शहर में भी बारिश हो रही होगी| खुद को काफी देर रोकने के बाद बरसात के रुकते ही आखिरकार मैं बाहर आ ही गया|  बारिश के बाद मिट्टी से आने वाली खुशबु आज भी उतनी सुहानी लगती है जैसी की बचपन में लगती थी| बरसात के मौसम में शहर का रूप अलग ही हो जाया करता था| कीचड के कारण सड़क  पर चलना दूभर  हो जाया करता था|  सड़क के दोनों ओर मिट्टी पर नयी घास  उग आया करती थी| बारिश में हर चीज़ नयी होती थी नयी किताबें,  नए कपडे, नए जूते और कभी कभी नए दोस्त भी| और उस नए नए संसार में मन उल्लास से भर जाता था| 
                                                                           मुझे आज भी याद है जुलाई की नम सुबह को जब माँ जल्दी उठा कर, तैयार कर, टिफिन दे के स्कूल भेजती थी तो लगती था की कब मैं बड़ा होऊँगा और कब स्कूल से पीछा छुटेगा| आज भी हवा में वही नमी, वही खुशबु को महसूस करता हूँ, मगर अब सुबह न माँ उठती है न टिफिन मिलता है| ऑटो वाले भैया के आने का समय होता था तो लगता था की भगवान आज बारिश इतनी तेज़ हो की ऑटो आ ही न पाए|  और जब ऑटो आ जाता था तो मन यही कहता था की आज बरसात के कारण स्कूल की छुट्टी हो जाये| ऐसा नहीं था कि मुझे स्कूल जाना ज़रूरी था| मेरा चेहरा देख के माँ पूछ लिया करती थी कि आज जाना है या नहीं|  मैं मना कर दूं तो माँ मान जाती थी मगर मना करना मन को अच्छा नहीं लगता था|  और अब जब ऑफिस आने का समय नजदीक आता है तो जान सूख जाती है| बरसात के कारण दफ्तर की छुट्टी हो ऐसा तो असंभव ही है| जुलाई के महीने के दिनों में जब सुबह सुबह बादल नीले आसमान को घना काला और मटमैला बना देते थे तो क्लास में क्या चल रहा है यह तो ध्यान  ही नहीं रहता था, बस मन खिड़की से बाहर आसमान की और भटकता रहता था|
                                                                                                                                                                                                 हवा चलते ही आस पास लगे नीलगिरी बादल पेड़ झुमने लगे और कुछ देर के लिए मैं वापस वर्तमान में लौट आया|  बचपन में भी स्कूल में लगे यही पेड़ हवा के साथ ऐसे ही झूम जाया करते थे, और मैं खिड़की के पास बैठा इनका अक्स अपने चश्मों में देखा करता था| खाने की छुट्टी में स्कूल के आते में पुरानी पड़ी लकडियों पर उग आये कुकुरमुत्तो को इकठ्ठा करा करते थे और उन्ही लकडियों पर रहने वाले घोंगो को पकड़ कर उनकी दौड़ कराया करते थे| आज तो उन्ही कुकुरमुत्तो की बनी सब्जी ऑफिस के  कैंटीन में खाते हैं|
                                                                                                                         आसमान में एक बार बादल डेरा दाल दे तो समझो कई दिनों तक सूर्य देवता दर्शन नहीं देंगे| दिन भर बादल उमड़ घुमड़ कर गरजते रहते थे, मनो डरते हो की अब बरसे कि तब बरसे| ऐसे में स्कूल से वापस आ कर भी बाहर खेलने जाने कि इजाज़त तो मिलती ही नहीं थी| दादी हमेशा गर्म कपडे पहनने को बोलती रहती थी और मैं यहाँ वहाँ भागा करता था| शाम को अगर बारिश हो गयी तो पापा कि फरमाइश पर गर्मागर्म भजिये बन जाया करते थे| आगे वाले कमरे मैं खिड़की दिन पास बैठ कर गिरती बारिश को देखा करता था, धंटो तक| आँगन में पतरों पर से गिरने वाला पानी छोटे छोटे गड्ढ़े बना दिया करता था| उस गिरते पानी में अनगिनत कहानियाँ मन में बुन लेता था| आँगन में बहने वाला पानी नदी बन जाता था और पतंगे, चींटियाँ, मकोडे और कई कीडे उन कहानियों के किरदार|
                                                                                                                              बारिश के रुकते ही आँगन और पीछे के बाड़े  में दीवारों पर उग आये तरह तरह के पौधों को देखने निकल जाया करता था| उन पौधों में एक फली वाला पौधा हुआ करता था जिसकी फली पानी लगते ही ‘पट्ट’ कि आवाज़ से फुट जाती थी| उसे फोड़ने में जो मज़ा आता था वो आज ना किसी डिस्को में आता है, न किसी पब में| अगर बारिश अँधेरा होने तक नहीं थमती और मन फिर यही प्रार्थना करने लगता था कि भगवान् करे कि बारिश रात भर न थमे और सुबह स्कूल न जाना पड़े, यही सोचते सोचते नींद लग जाती थी| अगले दिन उठ कर फिर स्कूल और वही क्लास|
                                                                                                    लेकिन आज बारिश का होना न होना एक जैसा ही| एयर कन्डिंशन्ड ऑफिस में बैठ कर कंप्यूटर पर उंगलियाँ चलाने का बसात से क्या सम्बन्ध| हल्की हल्की बूंदा-बंदी फिर से शुरू हो गयी है| और अन्दर दफ्तर में मेरा काम इंतजार कर रहा है| यहाँ तो कोई नहीं पूछेगा कि आज काम करना है या नहीं| अन्दर आते आते मैं सोचने लगा कि क्या मेरे शहर में आज भी वैसी ही बारिश होती होगी?  शायद……..|

वीर

कौन है जो आगे आये?
कौन अपना सर कटाए?
ऐसा कोई वीर है यहाँ कहाँ?

वीर की वसुंधरा,
तू क्यों खडा डरा-डरा?
आगे बढ़ तू आज अपनी जीत कर|

पुकार है यह युद्घ की,
धरा तेरी अशुद्ध की,
ऐसे दुश्मनों का आज अंत कर|

अश्व अस्त्र गज से युक्त,
 तू सारे बन्धनों से मुक्त,,
 साथ तेरे सर्वशक्तिमान है| 

म्रत्यु जब न अंत है,
किसका फिर आतंक है?
सर्वस्व आपना आज दे लड़ा|

खड़ी जो उसकी फौज हो,
प्रचंड तेरी ओज हो,
सनसनी लहू में उसके भर तू दे|

खडग  कटार बाँण से,
तू जैसे भी हो प्राण ले,
वीर तू तभी तो कहलायेगा|

शीश उसका काट तू,
तन को उसके बाँट तू,
युद्घभूमि में रक्त रस बहे|

अंग अंग भंग हो,
न साथी कोई संग हो,
अपने दुश्मनों का ऐसा नाश कर|

जो तर  गया सो जीत है’
जो मर गया तो रीत है,
वीर को सदा जग है पूजता|