साहिब बीबी और गु़लाम!

मैंने जब यह फ़िल्म पहली बार देखी उस वक्त मैं छोटा सा बच्चा था और मुझे यह एक डरावनी फ़िल्म के तरह लगी बजाय एक गुज़रे हुए ज़माने की पतनशील सामंती व्यवस्था पर एक भावनात्मक लेकिन संवेदनशील कमेंटरी के. फिल्म का ब्लैक एंड व्हाइट माध्यम इसके दबे हुवे षड़यंत्रपूर्ण कथानक के सर्वथा अनुकूल था तथा कहानी को पूर्ण तीव्रता से अनुभव करने के लिया अत्यन्त ही सार्थक भी. फ़िल्म की कहानी में आए अकष्मिक उतार चढ़ाव, घड़ी बाबू का स्क्रीन पर पागलपन से उत्प्रेरित उन्माद उस छोटे बच्चे के लिया हारर का सबब था. अब चूँकि कहानी की परिपक्वता और विचित्र घटनाओं का चक्र एक बच्चे के लिए समझना मुमकिन न था लिहाज़ा मेरे लिए वह एक डरावना अनुभव ही साबित हुआ. संवादओं की जटिलता, कहानी का धीमा बहाव और महिलाओं का ग्राफिक उत्पीडन मेरे लिए अच्छा अनुभव न था, नतीज़तन फ़िल्म देखने के बाद जब मैं घर लौटा तो मुझे उन सभी पुरुषों से नफरत थी जो महिलाओं के साथ क्रूरता से पेश आते थे.
लेकिन फ़िल्म का गहरा स्याह परिवेश, उसका दिल को चुने वाला संगीत मेरे लिया एक बहुत ही आत्मीय अनुभव रहा. इसलिए जब कुछ लोग कहते हैं के लता मंगेशकर का सबसे रूहानी गीत "कहीं दीप जले कहीं दिल.. " है तो मुझे ये कतई इनकार है. मेरे लिए रूहों का सबसे बहतरीन गीत गीता दत्त का "कोई दूर से आवाज़ दे चले आओ ... " ही है.

इक बार वक़्त से लम्हा गिरा कहीं ........

वक़्त जैसी अमूर्त चीज़ से लम्हा का गिरना हैरत की बात है। शेर ओ शायरी में अक्सर ऐसी शै नज़र आती हैं और हमें एक खुशनुमा अहसास से वाक़िफ़ करती हैं। लेकिन आखि़र ये बालाहै क्या? वक़्त कोई तरल तो है नही के लम्हा एक बूँद की तरह टपक जाए! वक़्त हमारे लिए जन्म से मृत्यु तक का अन्तराल है यानी वह हर पल जो जिया गया है और जो आगे जिया जायेगा इस लिहाज से तो लम्हा का गिरना ज़िंदगी का वह हिस्सा है जो जिया ही नही गया।

--- काली हवा

Anger!

Where does 'anger' fit in our survival scheme of things? Its genesis can be fairly judged; after all there was a need for emotional response to provocation and 'anger' is manifestation of that response. Anger, apparently is primal, preceding arrival of modern man. Anger is also universal; all creatures who can display emotions also express anger. One can understand the need of analytical resources required to understand dynamics of ‘anger’ therefore its prevalence in animals is understandable but Man?
Man has have evolved with time adapting and assimilating with experience best ways that help in his survival therefore our surrender to ‘anger’ is incomprehensible. Surely our complex mind must have realized the destructive nature of ‘anger’. Anger inhibits rational thinking therefore restricts best retaliation to provocation. This is very elementary conclusion therefore our mind should have figured this out and gradually blunted its persistence. Indeed ‘anger’ cannot be eliminated but our evolution with time must have allowed its quick dissipation rather than its snowballing feature!

Some day water will be abundant because technology will enable us purify sea water. Then the world will be a lot greener. If we can learn to live with and in water , that will be the new religion.

Kali Hawa

New Religion

LakaR-haaraa

tilmilaa gaya tha woh
kulahaaRii ki chot se
“kamzarf raham kar
buuRhaa daraKhta huN
thoRii to sharm kar!”
Khamosh tha nazaraa
ik thaa woh lakaR-haaraa
Gardish meN din the uske,
lambii siyaah raateN
rafta rafta phir bhi
guzarta tha waqt saaraa
aKhir to tha bas usko
mehnat ka ik sahaaraa
“muafii ho mujh ko baba,
kya dard hai ziyadah?
bayaaN phir bhi kar do lekiN
kya jurm hai hamaaraa?
karta huN chot jis par
saR-gal rahiiN thi shaaKheN
is ke baghair warnaa
yaqeeN tha teraa ujaRnaa
Ghar jurm hai yeH tujh par
sad-laanateN hoN mujh par
bhai magar samjh le
mere waqt ho chala hai
ab daur machinoN ka
aanee ko mukhtasar hai
ab daur machinoN ka
aanee ko mukhtasar hai
Soch le bhaii...
tera kyaa hasr hogaa

Tasbeeh ka Dana

Please leave me alone

Tasbeeh Ka Dana

Muhtsib1, tasbeeh2 ke danoN pe ye gin.ta raha
Kin ne pee, kin ne na pee, kin kin ke aage jaam tha

1 holyman 2 set of counting beads


A very average sh'er of excessively overused theme. Actually I wanted to use another sh'er by Jigar in which 'tasbeeh ka daana' was used but couldn't recollect it correctly. My focus however is 'tasbeeh'. Tasbeeh is a wonderful word of restrictive purity and gravity. The word conjures vision of old men in white robes and flowing white beard or barefoot unwashed saffron-attired sadhus, their faces plastered with ash, slipping past their fingers one bead by one bead. Yet reality is cruel, its very relevance is questionable. It mocks our capacity to think rationally and reduces God into some kind of Sorcerer or 'Tilism' whose pleasure is tied down to a number. Worship becomes a chore focussed on accomplishment of a task. May be it provides a sense of participation or perhaps a sense of satisfaction at completing a task. Some may say it sets their mind at peace!
Why not just sit on a lonely riverbank or under a large shady tree or an abandoned large house and let the mind drift! I even reject the Yogic stance of emptying the mind of any thought; for one it is unnatural and two it is result neutral. Why not let the mind drift and experience the transcendental tranquility.
I would like to go to the temple and the mosque or the church but when there is no one in. The candles are not lit and the fragrance of incense does not waft through the air. Even better, I would like to go to an abandoned mosque or a temple ruin or a dilapidated palace where Peepal shoots jut out of crevices and cracks and roots of large trees have broken through the bases and distorted the edifice. This will busy my mind to draw the missing lines and complete the picture. Isn't fantasy better than the real thing!
I would want to be amazed at the calligraphy of those deft hands yet not be awed by their textual content. I would want to bypass the images of Gods, textual description of Him and not even 'sigh' at the mayhem unleashed by His followers, for man would have found a reason for that even without Him. I would want to get past the curiosity of "Who I am?" or "Why I am?" reach a stage where life merges with death and people will float past me like ghosts seeing through me, not acknowledging me.
I want to hold that 'tasbeeh' in my hand, eject it high in the air. catch it, swing it around one finger even slip the beads past fingers but never counting them. I want tasbeeh to break, beads spill over, bouncing off the floor and roll away. I want to be one of them, a freed "tasbeeh ka dana"!
Wouldn't you?

Jigar’s awesome sh’er is this:

Ye kis ka tassavur hai, ye kiska fasana hai,
Jo ashk hai ankhoN maiN, tasbeeh ka dana hai