MEMOIRS

The Rickshaw Rides

Rickshaw must really occupy a very cozy place in the memoirs of one's life if not one born with a silver spoon in one's mouth. Though it would be grossly unfair labeling it as 'Garib Rath' or 'Garibon ki Sawari'. I bet even Queen Victoria would have taken fancy for this ageless sawari and a drive in it for its leisurely royal ride.
It has been ages having a rickshaw ride through the town. Sometimes I am forced to reflect on the side-effects of car- driving. It was then I had to bid farewell to rickshaw. With wistful and envious eyes I watch little school going children with their dangling feet, huddled together in the rickshaw seat enjoying the carefree ride to the learning gate. I desperately remember that little boy in Rabindra Nath Tagore's poem 'Vocation' and want to add there a few wishes of my own- "I wish I were a rickshaw-puller...riding through the curvy lanes of the town../There is nothing to hurry him on..."
Such scenes are now becoming a thing of past as auto rickshaws have replaced the rickshaw like small fish eaten away by big ones. At times I want to curse the inventor of auto rickshaws like Antony had  cursed the conspirators and assassins of Julius Caesar-"O mighty Rickshaw of 'Naya Daur'!Dost thou so low?...Are all thy rides, triumphs, spoils,/ Shrunk to this little measure....That I love thee, rickshaw,'tis true.....Woe to the hand that made auto rickshaws! Over thy neglect now do I prophesy- .....A curse shall light upon the limb of aoutmobiles...."
"Jane kahan gaye wo din.....My two brothers and I used to go to school by rickshaw at Digwadih in Dhanbad. I still have a vivid memory of the rickshaw puller 'Khoka' in ganji, gamchi and half folded lungi who started ringing 'trin-trin-trin' right from the gate and all the way through the driveway to the porch. We never spared him if ever he was late...greeted him with this chorus-"Khoka ne khaya tha kal chokha...tabhi aaj hamen diya isne dhokha."And, he kept on pulling the rickshaw nonchalantly occasionally making a remark here or there on our gibberish talks and giggles.
Once, I had a nasty fall from the seat when all of a sudden he had to apply brakes in order to save a hen... How ungracious he seemed to me then...I had fell down with a thud and landed on all fours...had cuts and bruises on knees and hands,...felt so peevish but even the little cry seemed to have betrayed  my lips then like that false friend who comes to you only when the problem has been sorted out..My tears, like true friends had stayed in my eyes and remained there till I reached home and amid sobs narrated the tale of Khoka's careless driving(skilfully leaving that part of rescue in which Khoka had picked me up like a ragged doll and firmly placed me on my seat) to my mother who, to my dismay, said nothing to khoka and instead asked me to sit carefully holding the side handles tightly which to this very day I remember whenever I have a chance to have a rickshaw ride...But, to that little girl, Khoka had become unforgivable and untrustworthy.
                                                                                                             

सीमांत

ओ मनुपुत्र -

किस सीमा के अंत की बात कर रहा तू,
वह जो तुमने ही बनाई औ तुमने ही तोड़ी?

लक्ष्मण-रेखा तो तुमने ही खीची,
,और सीता हरण कर उसे ही दिया तोड़।

लाइन ऑफ़ कण्ट्रोल तो तुमने ही बनाई,
औ घुसपैठिये बन उस पे ही की चढ़ाई।

चहारदिवारी तो तुमने ही खड़ी की,
औ तुमने ही उसमें की सेंधमारी।

कहीं उस क्षितिज को तो नहीं देख रहा
जिसने मनु और श्रधा को दिया जोड़?

ओ मनु पुत्र-
उठ जाग और देख

सीमांत पार है असीम गगन
उड़ और जा उसे भेद।

इस पार है अथाह सागर
आ और ले इसकी थाह।

NOSTALGIA

Visit to Dargah e Maner Sharif

 When it comes to choose between mind and heart, most often it is better to follow your heart or else with the fleeting time, you're left with that vague sense of uneasiness, restlessness that you risked nothing and so risked everything. Generally we are seen waiting for the opportune time to arrive and they never.....
 For the past 2-3 years there had been that persistent urge in me to visit this site 'The Dargah of Makdum Shah, at Maner Sharif  approx. 24 kms from Patna. I have some nostalgia for this oft visited place while posted at HFC, Barauni. So, packed my water colour kit, camera, sketch pencils etc. and left at 6.10AM this morning. After a bumpy ride here and there, reached at 7.00, parked my car under a shady tree and scanned the whole place at a glance....the place was as green, quiet and unspoiled as it had been... in the last summer 6 years before.and this morning again The Dargah across the pond from the resort looked like The Sleeping Beauty holding back some unshared mystery, a kept out passage to me. Good monsoon rain had added to its lush greenery making the place all the more serene.

The place brought back a flood of memories...those oft and on visits as a break, a detour... from Ara to Barauni. It was a sort of outing, a picnic for us but somehow I had missed entering the Dargah. So, this time I strengthened the bonding with this place by not only visiting the tomb but also water colouring its beauty.

Earlier the place was looked after directly by the Bihar Tourism Department. Later on, it was handed over to some private agency for its proper upkeep by Bihar Tourism. The place is well maintained from inside and this morning it looked so dreamy with its properly mowed lawn still wet with dew drops gleaming and glistening in the morning sun. I could not resist the urge of walking barefooted on the wet grass that gave me a tingling sensation. The intricate designs, the arched doorways are worth seeing. Dust has not gathered over the place. However, the roads need repairing. Took a few snaps of the Dargah but shooting is prohibited inside the tomb wherein lie buried Makdum Shah, his wife and his disciple who built it.

Came back to the Resort and found that the cafeteria was still closed. So, settled down on the upper step of the stairs leading to the pond and started with water colour .An old tree was lying uprooted by the stairs side and the black ants were crawling on the stairs wondering at my trespassing. Some folk, gentry were having a meeting under the tree shade after their morning stroll. They came, stood there  peeping over my shoulder at my unfinished work for some time and then left. A few school going boys   joined as onlookers who sat around me on the steps. I kept on working while talking to them. The manager of the cafeteria arrived but I had finished my water coloured by then . It was 9.50. I collected my things and left the place with a mute promise to keep on renewing the bonding every season esp. the winter.

IDENTITY

When one's soul mate breathes his last,
One comes to breathe one's overweening first.
The body there burning on the pyre,
And here one is caught in an inferno of mire.
One still wants to cling hopelessly to that identity,
But one is treated as a lost, nameless property
Who just pulls on preserving the scattered remains,
Nothing but the only painful solace in her domains.

इन्तजार 

हम सोये कहाँ
बस खोये हैं
रात-रात भर
जाग कर
जब भोर में सोये हैं
तो अपना आपा
आपके इन्तजार में
खोये हैं

क्या विस्मृत करूँ
उन स्मृतियों को
जब खुद को आप में
खो कर
सार्थकता में निरर्थकता को
खोये हैं
और पुनर्मिलन की
आस को संजोये हैं .

Life's Canvas

 

                                                      A Veil Of Smile

                                                  I put on a veil of smile

                                                   To bury my anguishes.

                                                  I feigned a brave heart

                                                  To conceal my weaknesses.

                                                  I had summer dreams

                                                  To be free from the nightmares.

                                                  I embraced my solitude

                                                 To shut off the heartless masses.

                                                 But, I splashed in color
                                                To liven up the life's canvas.

To me, getting car-servicing done is an opportunity in disguise, not an ordeal. This Sunday, I packed my water colour box, sketching pencils, a bottle of water, Sunday Times and The Telegraph and reached the Hyundai Servicing Center by 10 in the morning. The center has now shifted to Digha near Bata Factory. This one is far more spacious than the previous one. It was  advantageous for me not having a TV set in the customers' lounge. Knowing that it would take not less than 2-3 hours, got settled in the sofa, went through all the news and then after water coloured the outside view. By the  time the car was serviced, my water colour was almost done.

                                                    

कटी पतंग 

जीवन तो यूँ ही कट जायेगा,
जैसे हर सुबह की ढलती शाम.
पर संध्या की गहराती तन्हाई में
मन क्यूँ कटी पतंग सा था जा भटका?

....... आओगी का दे स्नेह निमंत्रण,
छेड़ दिया था ह्रदय में इक विकल स्पंदन.
है प्रेम पर था तुम्हारे तो पूर्ण विश्वास
पर नहीं आया विधाता को ये रास,

क्यों  विगत हो गए स्वर्णिम से वो दिन?
क्यों रुपहली रातें गयी मुझसे छिन?
तब मेरे ही स्वप्न मुझको मुझसे गए छल
प्रस्तर प्रतिमा बन कहाँ ढूढूँ इन प्रश्नों के हल ?