A Winter Sunset

These days the third formative assessment is going on and the mundane task of invigilation duty, evaluation of answer sheets leave us overtaxed. Therefore, when in the last period, my eyes caught this breathtaking view of the setting sun in the backdrop of a winter evening while entering the classroom, I just could not resist from giving myself a treat of a sketch break.

However, it preys on my mind-"Why does the sunset appeal more to our mind and heart than the sunrise?" Is it, perhaps because they hold the hope of a new dawn, a new beginning, a fresh start. But then, only to culminate in yet another twilight, a night fall. A truth- how very ironical !  

A sketching break in the English period

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Yesterday, during the English period in class VII'A',we were discussing about hobbies. One shy and quiet student came up to me and showed his sketch book.He had done so many drawings of legendary and mythical characters with an adept hand. I was impressed to see the budding artist and instinctively took his sketch book and did a life sketch of him. All the while he kept on looking at my hand busy in sketching him

Monsoon Drizzle

The first droplets of Monsoon rain after the scorching and sweltering heat of long Summer are so fascinating that they have always ignited the creative mind of many a poet. The dark cloudy sky, high wind followed by a shower of rain always make me nostalgic and this year they paved way for me to lend wings to my feelings so as to scale the heights of the realm of poetry.

Monsoon Drizzle

Cool, little droplets of monsoon drizzle,

Why and where have you been so long?

The long spell of summer heat had been on

With days parched and wind gone.

And a soul left all weary and forlorn

Dreaming of a meadow green and mellow

Battered and withered only to drag on

With a cheerless life all dreary and hollow

Come, O’ rain, come and fall in drops,

To fill in all the gaps and crevices

And mop up every pool and puddle,

Waking the sleeping earth up to a new harvest

jeewan ki kitab

A few days back, in the leisure period, Kumud, one of my colleagues started

 reading our palms. To me, she said,"aapka jeewan to ek khuli kitab hai."

This left me pondering over the statement

कुमुद ने मेरे हाथों की लकीरों को पढ़ कहा-

"आपका जीवन तो  इक खुली किताब है

कुछेक पन्ने तो समेट रखा कीजिये ."

बात मन की गहराई में जा कहीं धंस गयी

औ न चाहते हुए भी जब पन्नों को पलट डाला

तो मस्तिस्क के पटल पे कुछ यूँ चित्र उभरे-

जब जिसने चाहा-

दो-चार पंक्तियाँ जोड़ी या फिर काट-खुरच डाली,

औ इक हाय सी उठी जो शून्य में विलीन होते  गए  

किसी ने सुन के भी अनसुनी कर दिया

जब जिसने चाहा -

स्याही भरी पूरी द्वात ही उढेल डाली,

औ अश्रु की बाढ़ में शब्द धुंधले पड़ते गए

किसी ने देख के भी अनदेखी कर दिया

जब जिसने चाहा -

कलम की नोंक ही चुभो तोड़ डाली

औ इक दर्द भरी सिसकी होठों पे उभरी

किसी ने छु कर भी अनछुआ छोड़ दिया

जब जिसने चाहा -

नाता तोड़ गाथा अधूरी छोड़ चल दिया

औ कहानी मानों पंखे से झूलती इक लाश बन गयी

किसी ने पढ़ कर भी अनपढ़ी छोड़ दिया

ये क्या विधाता ने किया -

मानों जीवन नहीं, बनिए का बही-खाता हो

जहाँ बस इंसान के एहसानों का चालुखाता हो

जी करता है इस किताब को

किसी जर्जर इमारत के जंग खाए दरवाजे की तरह बंद कर डालूँ

आज इस अधूरी गाथा को इक कफ़न में लपेट दफ़न कर डालूँ .

Car Servicing Day

After seeing off Mani and spending a nice time with Sammi , going on a shopping spree and movie seeing, I returned to Patna on 20th Oct. There were still two days left for the school to reopen after the Autumn Break. The next day, on 21st, I drove to Hyundai Servicing Centre for the servicing of my car. It had been raining since morning and so getting the assurance of the work being done in an hour or so,I finally snugged myself on the sofa in the office browsing idly the pages of the newspaper.

When done with the reading, I tried to do some still life sketching. Just then an elderly person arrived and sat just opposite to me. Here, I thought I had a perfect subject to sketch and deciding not to miss this opportunity, I did a rough sketching of him but to my dismay, the servicing of his car was over and he left in a hurry.The funniest side of this episode was that till then I had attracted quite a crowd of curious onlookers and one of them even offered himself to be as the next subject taking his seat on the sofa all ready to be sketched. Adding spices to this was his friend's comment-"madam, inki tashwir zaroor se bana dejiye taki inki patni inhe deewar par latka sake," Unaccustomed to such kind of airings, I took leave of them with a promise to do it at the next servicing of my car.

DRIFTING CLOUDS

I had been to Bangalore in this autumn break. After seeing off my eldest son (he went to Germany), Shammi (my youngest one) and I had a nice time together. Then 20th Oct. arrived, the day to make my return trip. This time luckily I got the window seat. So, less disturbance from co-passengers and moreover I could enjoy the scenic beauty. I have this childlike fascination for window seat whether it is a train or a plane. After all, one has this feeling somewhere buried in one's heart-"dil to bachcha hai jee", esp. in midlife.
Here are a few lines in the form of reflection on the view outside-


Drifting Clouds

From the height of ten thousand feet, I saw-

Drifting clouds light and puffed

Poised midway between land and sky.

An irresistible desire filled in me-

To touch and float with them

And to do a round of waltz over them.

But the reality that they were-

Only fog to melt down in drops of rain

Gave way to the mist in my eyes,

When far below I caught sight of-

The manmade concrete blocks of buildings

Encroaching the God made serene green nature.

Tearful clouds dispersed to show me-

The once brimming river thinning down

In a thread like filament on brown patches.

Yet shimmering like gold in the dazzling sunshine,

As if defying man’s feigned ego to win nature.

Till then the plane had risen to thirty thousand feet,

And the view of this war between man and nature

Blurred out from me with a vast sea of clouds to see.  

UNEARTHING MYSELF

On 16th, I, with Sammi went to Bangalore International Airport to see off Mani at 7.00 in the morning. It was cold and windy when we arrived there. Earlier, seeing off always made me go weak and shaky from inside. But this past year, we have been through this for so many times that it seemed just a normal routine or I might have grown strong, transformed facing and enduring the challenges of life that I maintained my calm.

After seeing him off, my guru- Sammi 'my youngest son'- as I call him sometimes because he is the one who has inspired me to take my neglected dreams off of the back burner and to cast off the old constraints, we had coffee together out there in the open space enjoying the bright and sunny morning doing some life sketches. It had been ages unable to recall when I did the last one. I felt a little let down on my self confidence. However, I tried to brush it up with Sammi at my side to motivate me. Though my eye to hand coordination was not so good yet I liked what I did

Jeevan ka sach

Out there on the roof for a morning walk, the cool, crisp air at times carries me back to the jungle of past memories but then they only bring tears into my tired eyes, seeking answers to some unresolved questions- Why it is so that the absence of one person makes one feel life as incomplete- this feeling never lets you live freely as the bitter truth keeps coming back to you that you are bound to live with this loss forever....... it hurts so much.

ON DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES OF KASHMIR

As I am a staunch supporter of women’s liberation from all the age old inhibitions and shackles esp. forced down on them in this male dominated society, below written  are my true and innermost feelings for Kashmiri Women in praise of their bold move taken against the forces.

Kudos to Desperate Housewives of Kashmir

O’ Kashmiri women,

My salam to you

For now you’ve taken the things into your hands,

Ailing scenario is surely to turn over a new leaf.

That you’ve shed the inhibitions,

And come out of the four walls

To voice your anger and outcry

Is a sure sign of the prestorm

That would curb and uproot

The brutality of the authority

And end your age old subjugation.

After all, who are they to-

Make your life an everlasting tale

Of ordeal and pain

And to take away your every right

To live peacefully in your domain.

O’ brave fighters,

Don’t ever let your spirits down

Just keep yourself moving on.

WHERE AM I

I know not where am I

Walking in a long tunnel?

Or

Caught in a whirlwind?

I know not where am I

The tunnel seems to be an endless journey

In pursuit of...

What am I to fill in this blank?

Ah! It’s all muddled,

.

Is it knowledge?

Is it happiness?

Or,

Peace or pleasure?

Deadened by the lashes of fate,

I try to see a ray of hope

At the end of that tunnel

And, keep myself pushing ahead.

It is so dark and murky,

And there are snags.

I stumble succumbing to them

Left bleeding and broken.

Then a Hand appears in the dark,

Pulls me to my feet

As a succour to my aid

I get up and keep walking .

I am nearing the end

About to reach the light

Now I am there but

The light has moved far .

Deceived and deprived

Left only to find out that

It was an illusion and then-

I know not where I am.