हम एगो इंसान हैं, जीने दो खाली.

मुझे नही सुनना तुम्हारे हुँकार मुझे नही देखना तुम्हारी ताकत। मुझे पता है तुम्हारी हुंकार माइक में जाती  है दूर दूर तक लोग सुनते हैं. मेरे  भूखे बच्चे कि चीख से ज्यादा दूर नही जाती। देहाड़ी करता हूँ. खाने को धन नही हैं. माईक कहाँ से लाऊं? 

एक साधू बाबा एक दिन सपना में पता नही केतना हजार टन सोना देख लिए और लग गए खुदाई करने में. हम कब से चिल्ला रहे हैं हमरो खेत में सोना निकलता है. आज तक एक बोरिंग नही खुदवा पाये। 

और इ का सेक्य़ुलर सेक्युलर रात-दिन करता रहता है? कभी तुमको हिन्दू सेक्युलर लगता है कभी मुस्लमान तुमको सेक्युलर लगने लगता है. हमरा मालूम नही है कि हम का है. एक बेटा का नाम रहमान है बेटी का नाम सपना है.  बताओ कि हम का हैं?

तुम लोग में कौन ज्यादा सेक्युलर है आपस में फैसला कर लो. सेक्युलर-सेक्युलर आपस में खेल लो. एक दिन तुम हो जाना दूसरे दिन दूसरे को होने देना सेक्युलर।

ये बात पता है तुमको कि हमको न तो मंदिर चाहिए न मस्जिद. काहे राम मंदिर राम मंदिर किये हो? दो चार गो स्कुल बनवा दो. मेरा रहमान और मेरी सपना  पढ़ने जा सकेंगे। 

लेकिन तुम कहे बनवाओगे? वो पढ़ लिख जायेंगे तो किसको मुर्ख बनाओगे?         

देखो सच्चाई ये है कि, मुझे एकदम मालूम नही है मुज़फ्फरनगर में काहे इतना लोग मारे काटे गए? आज भी मर रहे हैं. टीवी में ये सुने कि मार काट कि वजह से एक पार्टी को ज्यादा वोट मिलेगा एक को नुकसान होगा। इसका मतलब ये है की मंत्री बनने के लिए हमलोगों को मार काट करवा रहे हो।

सुनो! हमको मतलब नही है, कौन प्रधानमंत्री बनता है कौन मुख्यमंत्री बनता है. तुम सब कुछ बन जाओ. प्रधामंत्री, राष्ट्रपति, मुख्यमंत्री, कोयला मंत्री, रेल मंत्री। जेतना लूटना है लूटो न भाई. हमारा का जाता है? 

      

बाकी इ सब तुम लोग आपसे में करो. हमलोगों को कहे मरवाते कटवाते हो? हम एगो इंसान हैं जीने दो खाली.                        

Everybody loves a benign bomb

The well thought-out, as the serial blasts that wrecked Patna this Sunday morning appear to be prima facie, was benign in the sense that this killed only six people injuring close to 100.

Bihar police reports seven blasts. The number of deceased is less than number of bombs that exploded. Not many times do you come across such friendly bombs. No doubt these were benign bombs! And no doubt therefore everybody does love it.

The BJP loves it because it has legitimised their claims of Nitish Kumar treating Narendra Modi not as political opponent but political “enemy” after their alliance was broken.

It has given them this window for going to people and explain the “truth of blasts”. They are loving it as it has allowed them to play victim of deliberate “security lapse”.

They are loving it, as their supporters can claim, in the chaos that followed blasts, more than policemen BJP workers were there for helping people out. This is what they always want. Despite the blasts the rush in the “hunkar” rally didn’t thin, and they are loving it more than anything.  

The JD (U) is loving it since they have been able to let people in believing Modi is synonyms to violence - "he comes and violence is bound to follow/precede". They are aptly citing Muzaffarnagar riots. The conspiracy theorists proclaim Modi is enough for polarising people to the extent of planting bombs.

The central government loves it as the blasts redirected the media’s and people’s attentions away from the embarrassing gold hunt in Unnao. The Unnao embarrassment could certainly have got more spaces in newspapers and news channels causing huge embarrassment to the ASI and the government. 

Asaram supporters too are loving it.

The media is loving it. The TV channels got another piece of news which they can “play” with entire week. The print media reporters got the lead story without putting in their effort.

Sea of people at Gandhi Maidan who had gathered to listen to Modi’s “hunkar” didn’t panic and therefore averted an impending stampede. Democracy theorists are loving it. This shows how much the people believe in democracy, they have claimed.

But the innocent and dispassionate residents of Bihar and anywhere in the country are shocked.

As commoners they are least interest in whose “hunkar” is heard up till where or whose secularism is more sacrosanct. They are least interested in knowing who has gained from the blasts.

Only thing they are interested in is no child should be rendered orphan in political blasts or communal riots flared up by political passions. They are interested in knowing how we can stop our country to follow the Pakistan’s trajectory where violence has become integral to political rallies. 

अच्छा इ बताओ उस दिन रो काहे रही थी?

अचानक से उसका फ्रेंड रिक्वेस्ट आया था उस दिन. हमने  एक्सेप्ट कर लिया. पहले से उसको जानते थे. हमारे स्कूल में पढ़ती थी. जूनियर थी मेरे से. वो पढ़ाई कर कर के आगे निकल गयी थी. हम गाँव में ही रहते थे.

एक दिन शहर गया. दोस्त के कंप्यूटर से फेसबूक देखा. उसका मैसेज आया था. हमको  नही बुझाया अंग्रेजी में का लिखा था। दोस्त ने बताया, पूछ रही है "कभी ऑनलाइन नहीं आते."

मैंने कोई जवाब नही दिया। क्या लिखते, वो अंग्रेजी में लिखी थी हमको खांटी देहाती में जवाब देना होता। एक महीने बाद फिर जब शहर गए  तो उसका मैसेज फिर आया था. अंग्रेजी में का लिखी थी, नही बुझाया .

दोस्त से पूछने में अब शर्म आ रही थी. घर आ गए.  

पता नहीं काहे अंग्रेजी ग्रैमर कि एगो किताब किन लिए. शहर में ट्यूशन पकड़ लिए. उसको पता चला कि हम अंग्रेजी सिख रहे हैं तो उहो बिच बिच में मुझे कुछ बता देती। ट्यूशन जाने लगा तो सप्ताह में एकाध बार चैटिंग हो जाती.

एक दिन पूछी "आप आज उस लड़की का फोटो क्यूँ लाइक किये हैं".

तपाक से हम बोले "अच्छी लगी थी कर दिए". अगले एक महीने उसका कोई मेसेज नही आया. हाँ एक बात जरुर हुई. उसके बाद हम कभी किसी लड़की का फोटो नही लाइक किए।

फिर से एक दिन उसका मेसेज आया. इस बार हम अंग्रेजी में जवाब दिए.

खुश हो गयी वो. बोली आज प्रसाद चढ़ाऊँगी भगवान् को.

यूँ ही बात करते करते हम ग्रेजुएशन में पहुँच गए वो इंजनियरिंग करने चली गयी. बाबूजी ने लैपटॉप खरीद दिया तो अब विडियो चैटिंग करने लगे थे. तीन साल यूँ ही बित गए.

उस रात हम जैसे ही ऑनलाइन हुआ. उसने मेरा नंबर माँगा।  हम दिये वो तुरत फोन की.

"पापा घर पे शादी कि बात कर रहे हैं," वो बोली.

हम कहे, ठीक है कर लो.

रोने लगी वो जोर जोर से. पहली बार कोई लड़की फोन पे इतना रो रही थी.

हम फोन रख दिए. सो गया. सुबह उठ के देखा तो वो मेरे फ्रेंड लिस्ट में नही थी. उसने हमको ब्लॉक कर दिया था.

साइकिल से कॉलेज जाते वक्त पता नही काहे आँखें झर झर बह रही थी. कहे रो रहे थे पता ही नही चल रहा था.
किसी तरह अंग्रेजी अख़बार में नौकरी हो गयी हमारी अगले २ महीने में.

ऑफिस में अचानक से एक दिन फोन बज उठा. उठाया तो वही थी उस तरफ. सीधे आई लभ यू बोल दी. सामने बॉस बैठे थे. कुछ बोल नही पा रहा था. वो बोले जा रही थी. हम फोन रख दिए। शाम को उसकी माँ का फोन आया.

इस घटना को दो साल हो गए. इस कारवां चौथ की शाम छत पे बैठ के अपने पडोसी को अपनी कहानी सुना रहा था. चाँद उगने ही वाला था.

थाली ले के वो ऊपर आ गयी. "अच्छा इ बताओ उस दिन रो काहे रही थी?" हम पूछ दिए.

"अरे इ सब रात को बताउंगी बेड पे. अभी भूख लग रही है. जल्दी से सामने आ जाइये। व्रत तोड़ लूँ. "


जे सुशिल Jey sushil facebook profile  द्वारा लिखित एक कहानी से प्रेरित।     

When he printed a newspaper on her for her b'day

What do you expect from your near and dear ones on your birthday?

Your favourite dish prepared in their hands, your favourite books, clothes, the car you love the most, jewelry, cakes, chocolates, drinks, a party that they throw for you. Or just a fulfilling hug of the special someone who is not before your eyes but always in your heart. The list may go on and on. Human desires and expectations are infinite!

But howsoever you may expand ambit of your desires you don’t expect somebody to publish an entire newspaper on you on your birthday. Featuring every good and bad of yours. Or to put it otherwise nobody can publish an entire newspaper on you on your birthday.

But he did it today. My room partner at Indian Institute of Mass Communication, Sourav Roy Barman has done it for my classmate Trisha Mukherjee.

The night of 20th October was just like any another night except the fact it happens to be the night before 21st October. I had gone to bed early. Around 2pm when the nature’s call forced me to wake up, Dada – as we call Barman who happens to be a Bengali from Tripura – was not in his bed. I bothered little. In the morning when I woke up at 06:30, I saw he was still awake writing something on paper.

In some more time Chacha (as we all call Manish Sain, our classmate) came into my room and he started doing some designing on Quark Xpress. Bhaskar, that perpetually high guy from Assam was also there. When I looked at Quark project, Chacha was working I found it was a newspaper titled “Trisha Times".

                                    Trisha Times newspaper on Trisha's Facebook wall 

Barman had started writing his piece at night. He could not complete it before 9am. They had this deadline of 9.30. After that we had our classes. The newspaper was print ready by 09:05am.

Don’t err into thinking that this newspaper was just a write up studded only with adjectives unjustifiably squeezed into the every sentence just to flatter the birthday girl.

This news paper was like a proper newspaper in the sense that it had carried stories with relevant quotes and interviews. It carried the message of Trisha’s sister Pinku, interview of her best friend back there in Kolkata Indrani Paul and her friends here at IIMC and other places also.

These interviews and quotes were managed by Dada who was special correspondent for the Newspaper. Special in every meaning of the term. 

Rest news stories were written by reporters of IIMC - Bhaskar, Taniyaa, Shreya and Nilotpal. Nilotpal is Taniyaa's friend and he in not an IIMCian.  

And of course there was special column “Chacha Ki Batein”. Chacha had blessed the birthday girl in his won way through a five line “poem”. Whatever he writes becomes a poem!

And guess the reaction of the girl when the gift was presented to her before the entire class.

First reaction: Wow! Ye kisne kiya?

Second reaction: Are Indrani ka bhi interview liya hai?

Third reaction: tears in her eyes. Of course they were happy tears. Nobody mind crying with happy tears.

Fourth reaction: speechless.

You are not a Sadhu after all

They say stop dreaming face reality

I say keep dreaming make them reality

They say take only right decisions

I say take decisions make them right

They say always count before you take steps

I say take steps and make them counted

They say believe only in good relationships

I say go into relationships make them good

They say always do great works

I say undertake works finish them greatly

They say always dare to dream

I say make it a habit to dream

But please don’t dream of gold

Golden dream of yours will not come true

You are not a Sadhu after all!

Credit Google Image 

I feel you more in your absence than in presence

I feel you more in your absence than in presence
those pink smileys in those old mails

feeling your femininity in small fingers with large nails

ransacking old FB chats, my insanity your bedroom photographs

Yes I feel you more in your absence than in presence….

taking first dip in the sea imagining you are holding my hands

sitting alone in the sand on the bank of river Soan

watching that single tree on the other side

unknowingly sketching the sand with fingers to create you

Yes I feel you more in your absence then in presence….

in the night waiting for the cloud to go, moon to appear

in scribbing something on the paper then stopping

just to sob, cry and breathe then smile to start again

in avoiding visiting the city we met first

in avoiding to see the corner we turned away from forever

Yes I feel you more in your absence than in presence….

in befooling my self by thinking time will heal our wounds

in remembering how you used to say society won’t let love flourish

in how I cajoled saying your happiness matter more for them than my caste

Yes I feel you more in your absence than in presence….


in believing you will read these lines someday

in hoping you remember those moments 

in smiling when wrote the first letter of this piece

in crying while putting the full stop

God and Us

No reason to worry as

He                                  

Listens to silent our prayers

Enjoys our uncomposed lyrics

Hails our unsung songs

Sees our unseen sorrows                                         

Understands our untold stories

deciphers our covered plights 

Only we need to realise

He is in our silence 

making it louder than our voices 

He is in our uncomposed lyrics

making them all the more melodious

He is in our unsung songs

making them cooling and soothing

He is in our untold stories

making them all the more interesting

He sent us here to get some of His 

dreams come true through us

He is there to understand our plights

to emasculate them with care. 

He is there to love us all

He is there to bless us all

                                            

                                 

                                              

                              

                                                                   

                      

                                                                                                                 

                    

                                             

                      

                       

Sea! How cute is your united family

Photo Credit: Tanya Raturi on Facebook

First time I saw sea was on September 28, 2013. And how beautiful united family it has.

A family where there are children of all age group from 8 years to 23-24 years and of all the ages in between. There are sons, daughters; mothers fathers and of course grandfathers and grandmothers.

When I first stood before the sea with the sand literally shifting from under my feet eyes could capture only a small fraction of the entirety. And in that very fraction I encountered all the family members.

Where did I found the young children of the sea?

I witness waves being formed just before my eyes. Sons and daughters of the sea family – who I refer as sea-children – join shoulder to shoulder, put their hands across each other’s waist, giggle and run towards the shore forming waves. In these waves I find the sons-daughter of the sea. They jump up and come down as if they are playing rope skipping when they run outward. We all play rope skipping.

The exuberance of theirs reflects in the energy they carry. I find all these as expressions child-like.

They run towards shore to mingle and play with the young members of human family - who I refer as human-child. The people on the shore jump into these waves, flying with it struggling with it. Sometimes the sea-child wins sometimes human-child wins. There are only victories. Nobody is ever defeated.

While the sea-children do all these, their parents – the calm and still water slightly away from the shore, that appears mature like our parents do – watch and pride on what it has birthed. Such is the joy of this playing and mingling that we forget everything that is behind or before that moment.

While children – the sea and human – play with each other the parents see them overwhelmed. Our parents sit on the sand and sea family parents in the water that is calmer and originates the waves.

Eyes farther into the water and it has higher degree of calmness. They allow the ships, cargoes to sail through. Rarely do they disturb the business we do through them. They are just happy with seeing their children playing with the human-children.

Do they not resemble our grandparents? Don’t we see immense sense of satisfaction and happiness in out grandparents’ eyes when we play and we are happy?

I have never seen my grandfather. My father has seen him last when he was just three. But when I saw sea for the first time I could draw some similarity between my grandfather and the calm water- the grandfather in the sea family.

We fight: I win you win

Let there be no morning sans fight

Fight for why our princess is still asleep

Fight for why did you miss coffee with me

Let there be no breakfast sans argument

argument for the dress I’d wear in the office

argument for the restaurant we will visit in the evening

Let there be no lunch without competition

competition for preparing shake for our princess

competition for who leaves for the office late

Let there be no evening sans complain

Complain “kyu ki itna pyar tumko karte hain hum

Kya jaan loge hamare sanam”

Let there be no night sans fight

The fight in which either I won or you won

The fight in which I am right you are right