केसरिया ललकार!

केसरिया ललकार

 
युध् बिगुल बजा कर तुम , अब पीठ नहीं दीखा सकते

तलवारों की टंकार सुना कर तुम, अब म्यान नहीं सजा सकते

पीछेय से बाण चला कर तुम,  अब रन्न से आंख चुरा नहीं सकते

शांती पैगाम ठुकरा कर तुम , अब शेहनाई तान छेद नहीं सकते

अए , दिल्ली के शेहज़ादों , बहुत हो चुकी तुम्हारी बारी

इस बार करो पूर्ण पराजय की तैयारी !!

  

पोखरन के गूँजों को कर्कश विस्फोट कहा था तुमने

लाहौर की शांती यात्रा को हास्यास्पद सजा था तुमने

वसुंधरा से सोना उपजाने वालों को खूब ठगा तुमने

हल की हूंकार बूझा , रणवीर पैदा किये तुमने

ना चूकएयगा जनमानस इस बार, हैं खूब सपने दिखाये तुमने

इस बार की तुम्हारी ललकार, तुम्हारे सर्वनाश का द्योतक है ,

अए दिल्ली के शेहज़ादों , बहुत हो चुकी तुम्हारी बारी

इस बार करो पूर्ण पराजय की तैयारी !!

  
हम शांती के अग्रदूत, राष्ट्र का विनाश नहीं चाहते

तुम सत्ता के भूखे, बिना सिंहासन जी नहीं पाते

तुम क्या राम राज्य बनाओगे

१३ महीने का वनवास सहन नहीं कर पाते

हमने युध् नहीं चाहा था, शकुनि बन महाभारत तुमने हीं मांगा है

युध् ललकार सुनने के बाद, हम भी युध् विराम नहीं चाहते

अए , दिल्ली के शेहज़ादों , बहुत हो चुकी तुम्हारी बारी

इस बार करो पूर्ण पराजय की तैयारी !!

 
हम दंभ नहीं भरा करते, सत्य का आभास करते हैं

समय है अनभिग्य ना बनो, कर लो रन्न की तैयारी

जाओ, रोम में फौजें ढूंड आओ, जो पर जायें सौ करोड़ पे भारी

मिथ्या जगत में मत विचरो, नस नस में बहती है लहर सत्य की

बोफोर्स भी घबरायेगा , परशुराम की धनूरटनकारों से

" रोम"- व्योम" हिल जायेगा

स्विस बॅंक से आयातित कवच कुंडल भी अर्जुन के

बाणों से बींध जायेगा

हमें खेद होगा, तुम्हारे सौ वर्षों का काल

इतिहास बन जायेगा!!

तुम्हारी युध् विद्या पे ह्यूम भी कब्र  में तड़प तड़प जायेगा

 
इस बार कलयुग में द्वापर वाला रन्न होगा

ओह, तुम्हारा अंत बड़ा हीं नृशणष् होगा

अए , दिल्ली के शेहज़ादों , बहुत हो चुकी तुम्हारी बारी

इस बार करो पूर्ण पराजय की तैयारी !!

शुभ आशीष

प्यारी पोती राभ्या के पंचम जन्मोत्सव पर उध्भाषित स्नेहिल -" शुभ आशीष "


जन्म जयंती राभ्या तुम्हारी

तू छोटी पोती हमारी

तुम सा बेटी पाकर

आस्था- रोहित बलिहारी

लो, शुभाशीष हमारी!

 

कोयल सी तू

कूह कूह करती

तुम हो- कुल तितली न्यारी

लो, शुभाशीष हमारी!

 

स्वस्थ रहो

सानन्द रहो तुम

भैया रूद्र की बहना प्यारी

लो,शुभाशीष हमारी!

 

तू- सबकी प्यारी

तू- मम्मी पापा की दुलारी 

तू- नाम करेगी

बनेगी ऐतिहासिक सुन्दर नारी

लो, शुभाशीष हमारी!

 

सस्नेह - बाबा दादी

२८थ अगस्त २०१३, आक्रा 

To the Most Beloved Sid!

To the most beloved Sid........

अब तो तू ...और भी सताएगा

 

IRMA H block  अब हंटर  कैसे कहलायेगा 

गुलाम का "मुन्ना" कह मुझे कौन "पकिया" बुलाएगा

अँधेरी रातों में , धीरे से उरिया तान कौन छेर जायेगा

बासी चिकन चावल का नशा अब कौन समझाएगा

ओल्ड मोंक के संग- "तू असली भाई है"- उस प्यार से कौन बोल जायेगा

कालर को उठा के , ishtyle में सिगरेट कौन लाइट कर पायेगा

होठों को कर के राउंड , सुरुली सीटी कौन बजाएगा

 

बंधू... जा कर अब तू, और भी सताएगा

अब और भी सताएगा..

 

डांस फ्लोर पे अब कौन संग ठुमके लगाएगा

वाइट शर्ट/ ब्लू जीन्स कॉम्बो को अब कौन haute  coutoure  कह जायेगा

भोलेपन के शेह्ज़ादे.. अब हर लड़की के दिल ,कौन भा जायेगा

पार्क स्ट्रीट पे पुलिस जिप्सी से रेसअब कौन लगाएगा

बारिश बीच, ट्रैफिक रोक, रोड पे sallu डांस ,अब कौन कर पायेगा..

NGO से MLA बनने की नसीहत अब कौन दे जायेगा

 

पगले... जा कर अब तू, और भी सताएगा

अब और भी सताएगा...

 

हमसफ़र था और आज भी है ...

तेरी सादगी , तेरा भोलापन .. आज भी है..

तेरी मृदु आवाज ..  आज भी है

इंसानियत को इंसान बना दे तू..

हमें तुझ पे बेहद नाज़ .. आज भी है

दिल की म्यूजिक का सतरंगी साज़ तू .. आज भी है

आज भी है..

 

फिर भी प्यारे

जा कर अब तू , और भी सताएगा

अब और भी सताएगा...

Voyage...

Voyage!!

An adage- Journey- Well begun is half done! A rebel , some one who treads paths less taken, needs to think the other way else the belief in existence of someone up there can be shaken! The voyage last week has definitely made me believe the latter way !
An evening to remember! Choicest of cuisine, a panoramic view of the metropolis! A stuffed, roasted bakra devoured! This was the evening before departure, before the voyage. A carnivore ,aka moi , couldn’t have asked for more. The waistline bursting at seams and with the mutton pieces struggling to find their own space inside the stomach, The lift in one of the most posh apartments in Kinshasa gets stuck. While other comrades in arms tried to laugh it off, the 10 minutes inside were an ordeal worth forgetting! Claustrophobic , I am!! I realized and let it known in a loud , verbose, desi way that, the voyage had started right there. A challenge.. A real voyage!
Even the rain gods announced the start of the journey. The clouds thundered and poured ! Few sips of choicest cognac and the warmth of wonderful friends around calmed the nerves!
An astrologer friend called up the same time to inform that the planet Saturn had shifted positions the same night and would have fresh cannon balls in its armoury! I couldn’t resist my patented response- Shall take him head on!
Rain gods continued to shower boisterous blessings and the clouds chipped in with a J’taime kind of musical melodrama.
While they played musical with the voyage , I tricked the mighty Saturn by skipping the early morning flight amidst the elements of nature at its torturous best . The journey which began the evening before now had turned into a trick game between the supremo saturn and me!
Taking the evening flight , I had mixed feelings . A minnow, had scored the first goal against a star studded Saturn club. I felt joyous but was apprehensive of the backlash. While I was concerned that the trickster Saturn would be scheming and would certainly bounce back, I also felt I had taken the early lead .
The first stop in the journey further accentuated my joy on having taken the lead! A wonderful set of people, lovely hosts, a beautiful place and single malt to set the ball rolling. Well begun??
The fatigue of a long journey, nice evening and the effects of the single malt took my mind off the scheming Saturn. Sensing my intent on making a good start , the Saturn lured me towards the tennis courts. I didn’t need to warm up, I was already in the game to take him head on. Survived him there , I was still one up!
The volleyball court was not far off, With adrenalin flowing.. I walked towards it with a swagger!
He saw his chance within ten minutes.. The ligaments in left knee gave away to the pounding and thrashing from the mighty Saturn. He scored the equalizer.
A leg in cast and with the crutches helping me counter the attack, the focus is to strengthen the defense.
A challenging start to the journey makes it more livid, more interesting and for sure more memorable! Lets change the adage.. Begin with hiccups.. U shall drink to glory!!

Meanwhile,I shall continue to take you head on ; My mighty planet, Saturn!

बादलों को चुनौती...

आज फिर से बादलो के बीच उड़ने को तैयार हूँ,
एक नया आशियाँ ढूँढने को तैयार हूँ,
बन दीवाना बादलो पे गोले छोड़ने को तैयार हूँ,
बादलो ने सावन में संग अपने रुलाया है बहुत, आज उससे हिसाब करने को तैयार हूँ.....

महबूबा का आया पैगाम अभी ,बादलो को कहना सलाम सभी
सावन में हमने सपने सजाये बहुत, उसकी गर्जन में कभी घबराये बहुत
गीले तन में अरमानो को जगाये बहुत
दिवाली जैसी रंग और होली जैसी भंग, सावन ने रास रचाये बहुत......

मैं निकला हूँ वार करने को आज, बादलो से है अपनी पुरानी रंजिश,
गम के पायलो को भरती सावन की हाला
नैनो को करता गीला ,बढ़iता सदा प्यास,
बादल- कितना निर्दयी, है क्या तुझे ये एहसास…..

कहना उनका- बादलो से कुछ रिश्ता पुराना,
तुम कभी उससे न बैर निभाना ,
पुराना है साथी, गहरी है यादें!
सब भूला तुम उसे सदा गले लगाना…

भाषा में बोलूँ तो, Thy wish my command
महबूबा की खातिर बदलेगा सारा ब्रम्हांड
उनका पैगाम बादल तक पंहुचाऊंगा
अपने नगमे भी उसे सुनiऊंगा
डरता हूँ -कहीं दीवानगी से हैरान हो हमारी,
बादल भूल न जाये गरजना,
और ये हवाएं बेचारी , न कर दें शुरू सिसकना….

निकला था बादल को देने चुनौती .. आज प्रेम का सन्देश लाया हूँ
आज मिटाना था उसका वजूद , बाहू पाश में भरने आया हूँ ....

मिल बस आज बादलो में खोना चाहता हूँ
अपनी हस्ती मिटा , बस उसमे डूबना चाहता हूँ
हो सावन की बूंदे शीतल या कर्कश हों उसके गर्जन
आज उनमे सिमटना चाहता हूँ
आज बस आकाश में खोना चाहता हूँ....

रंग, धर्म, जाति , भाषा से बँटी ज़मीन,
उस ज़मीन पे नहीं लौटना चाहता हूँ
बादलो से कर दोस्ती......उनमे खोना चाहता हूँ
नहीं लौटना....बस उनमे डूबना चाहता हूँ......

एक सपना....

हकीकत की तो आदत है .. बिखर जाती है टूट कर
एक सपना है, जिसे बनाया है मैने ..हकीकत के टुकड़ों को जोड़ कर

एक सपना है, जिसमे उन्मुक्त गगन में उड़ने के सपने देखता हूँ

एक सपना है , जहाँ ना कुरुक्षेत्रा....न पोखरण
सिर्फ अमन का आसमान देखता हूँ ....

एक सपना है, जहाँ न विरोध, न अवरोध .....
सिर्फ द्रुतगामी देखता हूँ.....

एक सपना है, जहाँ ना वृक्ष.....न फल
सिर्फ परिंदे की आँख देखता हूँ.....

एक सपना है ,जहाँ न कलह ..... न क्लेश
सिर्फ शांन्ति देखता हूँ......

एक सपना है ,जहाँ न पराये...... न दुश्मन ,
सिर्फ वसुधैव कुटुम्बकम देखता हूँ.....

एक सपना है, जहाँ न द्वेष .. न जलन ..
सिर्फ इश्क की इनायात देखता हूँ


एक सपना है, जिसमे मैं सारे ऐसे हीन सपने देखता हूँ
एक सपना है , जिसमे इन सपनों को सच में बदलते देखता हूँ

एक सपना ही तो है, जो ऋतू सावन सा है
मैं इन सपनो में .. मस्त सावन को संवरते देखता हूँ


एक सपना ही तो है, मेरा अपना ही तो है

अब बस एक बार आंखे ख़ोल लूँ ....
चलना है आखिर हकीकत की ज़मीन पर !!!!

Pendulum...

Growing up, I remember a worn out, old Clock, with a pendulum hanging in one corner of the church next door. During hot sunny afternoons of summer break when other kids were forced into the cooler sections of the house for afternoon siesta, I managed to escape, lie prostrate on the cold stone floors of the church and stare at the pendulum for hours. It would calm my hormones and the edgy nerves of adolescence. I would come out feeeling better. I can still recollect my determined steps back home after a long staring session at the pendulum. What gave me this high? The energy ; What was that created additional positive waves which just lifted me up
I believe the never ending swing of the clock and my perplexed eyeballs were quite a sight. Gradually, this fanciful obsession turned out into a lifetime admiration. Yes, I do admire the relentless energy of the pendulum! It Never stops.. Never stops swinging. Never really realized when this admiration of a perpetual movement was noticed by the ever powerful Universe! And the universe , all powerful it is, gave that movement to me in bounty!
Alhumdulillah... Yet another action! Yet another movement! Loads of energy required and Yes! the arm muscles will ripple and reach out to the sky.. Will create heaven right here .. Lets keep moving.. Lets never get tired!
Lets keep swinging... Relentlessly!

तुम!!!!

जब अस्पष्ट थी ये ज़िन्दगी.....
तो अस्पष्ट था मेरा प्यार....

आज सुलझी है ज़िन्दगी....
आज करूँगा बेहद प्यार....

ना जाने कितने विलम्ब .....ना जाने कितने सैलाब...

कल की मेरी संकोचता.......थी मेरी असमर्थता ....
आज मैं बोलूं नटखट बोल....झूमेगा सावन , वसंती भी बजाएगी ढोल ...

कल थी तुम मेरी ख़ामोशी...आज बन गयी मेरी मदहोशी.....
तुमसे इकरार बेशुमार....तो क्यों ना तुमसे करूँ तकरार.....

तुम अदब , तुम ही मज़हब ....
तुम लाल किताब...तुमसे प्यार बेहिसाब....

मर्ज़ भी तुम , दवा भी तुम....
तुम ही गीत, तुम ही प्रीत...

कैसे कहूँ? क्यों कहूँ ? .........क्या कह दूँ ?
तुम मेरा परितोष.....तुम मेरा संतोष !

Mon Bolt.. Drive down the Digha Memories!

Disclaimer: Meant only for Michaelites- who know when and how to bunk classes , climb up OUR hill , sit on a tree trunk and gauge at the ganges... The ultimate romantics! Others with simliar bent welcome to scroll down, too!
Watching the athletics action and Bolt bravados at London Olympics.. I was dragged to a different era . The times at St Michaels, Digha .. on the banks of Ganges ! A couple of decades or more, back in time.

Carl Lewis was the best thing to have happened to the world of athletics then and he had confirmed his status as the best post Jesse Owens after his 4 gold medal haul at the Los Angeles Olympics. Then entered the Badshah Ben Stanozolol Johnson who could get off the blocks faster than a leopard! Florence Griffith’s painted nails and designer track clothes drew enough of school boyz attention. Carl lewis’s cleanliness appeared just next to godliness in the times of dope all around ! Bob Beamon record at the sand pit was getting threatened after decades and finally we were witness to that historic moment by Mike Powell.

We grew up living, dreaming and aping these guys in our own small ways! I do remember popping a strip of stanozolol – advised and given by a reputed doctor of these times, then a teen himself!

We were a bunch of talented and fanatic sports lovers with raging hormones, ready to enter our teens ! We had plethora of talented individuals in our batch itself. We had Amitabh WALL Prasad on soccer field, Amulya maverick shah who could create magic with soccer , cricket or any sort of balls, Sunit BECKER Sinha , Abhay MODI Sinha , Sunil, the captain who would marshal his troops with a deadly mix of disdain, pamper and jokes, Sumit dribble singh and many more who made each day of growing up exciting, competitive and interesting!

Among immediate seniors, We saw the on field heroics ( and off field too!) of good looks cricket stars Bhanu, Zohair, Saket, shahnawaz and chest protruding middle distance runs of Hira and Sunil. We had grown up watching super seniors Amit singh and Tathagatha sprint as if on a song , Sappu singh and Sanjiv Chaurasiya collecting medals by dozens and the latter showcasing 5 different ways to cross 5 ft plus in high jump! We had seen Sameer AKRAM Shukla set the cricket grounds on fire all over the country. All these are firmly etched in the memory. We had heard and read of records of super talented Randhir Singh but never got a chance to see his legendary talent on track . He was in semi retirement in the year he was my house captain, Reds !!!!! In our times and in our education system, Legends retired before entering university-:(

Amidst all these stalwarts.. One who stunned us, shocked us, pricked us, made us realize our lesser mortal existence , reminded us of our miniscule lung capacity and weak limbs and yet, always gave us awesome pride .. This sports whizkid was Dhawak, Gwala and with many more nick names but presently Colonel Manish Kumar of Indian Army!

Na Usain.. Nee Lewis..
Only Bolt.. Mon Bolt..

Thou were mon Bolt , Thou shall be mon Bolt..
Oh Bolt .. Mon Bolt!!

All of us would gape in awe ( even if running besides you ) at the speed and power you would generate on tracks. You would sprint like a sprinter, run choreographed 400 mtrs and 800 mtrs, run last few laps of a mile race as if back to sprints ! Long distances were your forte! You were magic in sand pit! Beyond the track, You were wizard at scoring goals at soccer field, When in whites, You batted like Dravid when required, kept like Dhoni or bowled odd bouncers if the captain asked for. You could play at all places in volleyball court with equal ease - with your height which gave an inherent (dis) advantage. You could pick up shuttle and give a cock fight to established shuttlers, You picked up ping pong racquet once in six months , still titles would come so easily! You were the best allrounder, one with a panache !!

I am told that the Bolt from Jamaica plans to play for Man U some day and bowled Chris Gayle out in an exhibition cricket match last year!

Seeing the pre and post race camaraderie between Bolt and Blake at London, I was reminded of our days at school and district level athletics meets where we had fun and I always remained a Blake to You Bolt… You are my eternal BOLT and I shall be your BLAKE always! Lets have a sprint round in 2014 ( pachees saal baad) and invite few of your fauji colleagues who are rumoured to have beaten you recently!!

My only regret , Mon BOLT, that you were not born in Jamaica where people would have pushed you to remain on tracks and not fiddle around with Resnick ,Hallidays and Zimanskies of the world!

PS- We never ran relays as one team and Mon BOLT , lemme remind you that you never beat your BLAKE at the relay-:) !… Wait and Watch the Jamaican magic unfold at London in 4 X100!
Now, You owe me a drink, Mon BOLT !!!

क्या क्या कहूं ?

क्या क्या कहूं ?

चौंदहवी का चाँद कहूँ ,या लाजवाब कहूँ

हूर कहूँ ,नूर कहूँ , या फ़िर आफताब कहूँ !



आपकी हर बात को खुदा का पैग़ाम कहूँ ,

आपकी खुशबू को मदिरालय का जाम कहूँ या फिर

आपके राग को कोयल की तान कहूं !



आपके साये को अपना जहान कहूं

आपके आँचल को बड़ा नादान कहूँ या फिर

आपके जुल्फों को घटाओं की शान कहूँ !



आपकी मुस्कुराहट को गीतकारों का साज कहूं,

आपकी हंसीं को घुंघरू की आवाज कहूं या फिर

आपकी बिंदिया को शहंशाहों का ताज कहूं !



क्या क्या नगमे कहूं तेरी खातिर में , ए मलिका,

क्या हुस्न के सारे पैमानों को तुम्हारी जागीर कहूं ?



भोलेपन को तुम्हारा सिपहसलार कहूं

बेरूखी को तुम्हारा प्यार कहूं

दीवानगी को अपनी , तुम्हारा नासूर या तुम्हारा संसार कहूं ?



कहता हीन फिरा हूँ ,थकता हीन फिरा हूँ

मृग बन कस्तूरी ढूँढता हीन फिरा हूँ !



मोहतरमा

तेरे इस सुन कर अनसुना कर देने को

देख कर अनदेखा कर देने को

समझ कर नासमझ बन जाने को

इतना बुलाने पे भी बाहुपाश में न आने को ..

दूरियाँ कहूं या नजदीकियां कहूं !!

Dashak...

दशक आंखे चार … दशक इकरार … दशक हमारा प्यार ..
दशक बसाया संसार …
दशक हम एक .. दशक हम दो .. दशक हम चार

दशक प्रेम कहानी का ..दशक उन्माद जवानी का ..
दशक निर्माण कहानी का ..दशक अपनी दीवानी का ,
दशक परिवर्तन .. दशक अर्जन .. दशक प्रजनन
दशक मेरे गर्जन .. दशक तेरे नयन .. .. दशक पाप मर्दन

दशक समंदर पार … दशक नए आचार ..दशक नया संसार
दशक मेरे हुंकार … दशक तेरा प्यार .. दशक बेशुमार
दशक तेरे हाथ .. दशक तेरा साथ … दशक रूमानी जज़्बात
दशक विश्वास .. दशक एहसास .. दशक हम में - हमारा निवास

दशक सपने सजाने का .. दशक आसमान ज़मीन पे लाने का
दशक कसमें खाने का .. दशक नव पंथ बनाने का
दशक हर्ष .. दशक उल्लास .. दशक प्यास

दशक - बजाऊँ ढोल .. …दशक – बोलूँ अपने बोल ..
दशक - चेय्रू बांसुरी .. नव दशक –नयन तू खोल !

नव दशक .. नव कसक .. नव हर्ष .. नव उल्लास …
नव दशक - प्रारंभ नयी कहानी का
नव दशक सफलता .. नव दशक उड़ान .. नव दशक मचान
नव दशक उत्साह .. नव दशक आशा … नव दशक शांति
नव दशक रोमांच .. नव दशक खुमारी
नव दशक बेकरारी -
नव दशक तुम पूजा – मैं पुजारी !!

Hope .. This Elections!

I saw it in hurry in connaught place , Delhi....
Weary n tired of life.. struggling to move but appeared confident to get to its destination
The one at Chowranghee, Calcutta looked enervated, a bit shabby...
More of a herd, Where each one is in search of its own patch of grass...
The one at Paltan Bazar, Gauhati looked slow... a bit emaciated, a meal sustains it for days..
The slow pace was a bit deceiving...For here also the eyes burnt with desire..

Thought the one in the Shillong valley would sparkle like a virgin.. but was dissappointed!

Yes! The face of the crowd all over is the same...
Mutilated and Disfigured...
Its desired and ambitions raped and obliterated by the ones at helm..

WILL SOMEONE RISE ABOVE THIS TIME AND PERFORM THE PLASTIC SURGERY?????

तेरा चेहरा

तेरा चेहरा .. ढूँढू मेरी जान ...
तेरा चेहरा ..ढूँढू मेरी जान ...तेरा चेहरा !!

किसको भूलूँ .. किसको मांगूं .. किसको मैं याद करूँ ??
क्यूँ की गूंजे हर पल .. तेरा चेहरा ...ओह हो .... तेरा चेहरा ...
सोंचूं , .तेरा चेहरा .. मांगूं , तेरा चेहरा ...
जानूं .. मेरा हीं है ... तेरा चेहरा !
कैसे बोलूँ .. केवल मैं एहसास करूँ .. संग मेरे ...तेरा चेहरा !
सोचूँ बहुत , जाऊं किधर , फिर भी सिर्फ तुझ पे ऐतबार करूँ .. तेरा चेहरा !!

मेरी पुरानी गिटार.. awesome था उसका इकरार .. दो धरक्ते दिलों का संसार .. था उसमे डूबा मेरा अंगार ....
फिर भी मैं .. आज चाहूं , आज ढूँढू .. तेरा प्यार .. तेरा चेहरा - तेरा प्यार !
ढूँढू तेरा चेहरा .. तेरा प्यार !!

तुम हो!

तुम हो!

मेरी चुप्पी मे .. तुम हो
मेरे शब्दों में भी ... तुम हो

मीठी बातों की सीमा रेखा , प्यार की फुलझरियां .. तुम हो
अनर्गल कटु शब्दों में भी... तुम हो

मुख से निकले बाण मेरे.... वो भी तुम हो
अधरों से गिरे फूल... तुम हो

मन में बसी पीड़ा ... तुम हो
मेरे विशाल ह्रदय का, प्यार , बेशुमार .... तुम हो

मेरे माथे पे पसीने की बूँदें ... तुम हो
उसे सुखाता शीतल हवा का झोंका ... तुम हो

रोष से लोहित हुआ मेरा चेहरा...तुम हो
मेरा हर्ष .. तुम हो! मेरा उल्लास भी.. तुम हो!

मैं में .. तुम हो
मैं हीं.. तुम हो!
मैं भी .. तुम हो

दौड़

दौड़

आज मैं उस दौड़ में शामिल हूँ
जो कब शुरू हुई पता हीँ न चला

कल रात जब सोया था
बडे चैन से सोया था
सुबह होने पे खुद खो बेचैन पाया, शायद थोडा व्यग्र भी
खुच माहौल में चिल्ल पों , साथियों की buck उप की आवाजें
और शायद मन में खुछ कर गुजरने की इक्छा
पलक झपकते हीँ ,शायद मैं उस दौड़ में शामिल था !

आज मैं अकेला सोया हूँ
सुकून और शांति हम बिस्तर होने की बात मुस्कुरा कर टाल गयीं
उनका कहना है- मै किसी गुप्त रोग से पीड़ित हूँ!
हकीम का कहना है - यह मर्ज़ हीं लाइलाज है
बशर्ते की ये दौड़ ख़त्म हो!

ये दौड़ कब ख़त्म होगी....

Mexico 86 and South Africa 2010- My Memories of Soccer indulgence!

Mexico 86 and South Africa 2010- My Memories of Soccer indulgence!
Circa 86- A gawky 13 year old, grade 7 student is building his castles in his dreams . He waits anxiously , eagerly and salivates for the kick off for the 86 world cup. The scene is further made easy with his elder brother Nikhil, feeling his excitement, gets his parents to buy a new colour TV!! The stage is all set for the grand finale…..


I was growing up in my own “hiccup- tical” ways- playing cricket, soccer, volleyball, athletics, table tennis, chess et al but soccer , for reasons faded in memory, remained very close to the heart! Carl Lewis, giant of an athlete post jesse owens, would haunt the dreams and so would our desi greats, Sunny gavaskar and Kapil Dev! The football stars occupying similar status were not from brazeel but from oh, so cool, Calcutta clubs!! Few school seniors like Randhir singh and sanjay ahirwaal would trespass the dreams sometimes. These were the soccer favourites of my pre teen years -

That year, we had 2 periods each of 35 minutes for soccer per week and that was one high time for all of us! We never missed school on those two days ( Tuesday and Fridays for us!), would plan for it a day before and dream of scoring a goal the previous night !! In grade 7 and 8 , we were the soccer section!! We had beaten all the other sections comprehensively in last two years. The stalwarts like manish kumar “ dhawak aka gwala”, Sunil sinha “ Kodhi” and sumit kumar “ singh” were already knocking on the doors of school team. Soccer had become our real passion while we followed other sports with similar spirit! Adpoting this life time passion in grade 8, I think, I became a global citizen , a lot before embarking for the unknown lands in year 2000.

The world was not inundated with media then… EPL and La liga were virtually unseen off apart the few erratic columns dedicated to them in sports section of times of India and Hindustan times… The journal de jour!

One was intoxicated on the wiles , guiles and dribbling of the stars of the three tittilators of Indian soccer fan – the three Calcutta clubs- East Bengal, Mohun Bagan and Mohammdean sporting.. Cricket had the most important status in the lives and minds of the entire country and for our generation, more so post the 1983 world cup victory but the escapades of these three clubs came only a close second .

The issue after issue of “sports star” and “sports world” which did give lots of coverage to the CPL ( common persons league! ) were diligently kept between the course books and every section was virtually memorized.

The exposure to world soccer was limited to print pages and a few documentaries on the God Pele on our own Door –Darshan, the national TV channel! Though , one gorged on all that the print media had to offer about the English summer of 66 , cryuff’s cunning craft of 74 or the way Italians inundation of 82! The history in pages created more awe , more dreams and more excitement in those adolescence years; much more than anything else could provide that time.

This B division team from Germany came to play 7 matches in india in 84/85 . Every match was telecast live on Dooor – Darshan ( the ball remained quite far from the screen!). Each match afternoons were meticulously planned and those 90 mimutes would take the breath away. First exposure to the western toughness. The wizardy , the guile of satyajit chaterjee’s and subroto banerjee’s and the safe hands of bhaskar ganguly appeared so humane and fallible (Almost the entire Indian 11 then would be from Calcutta- the soccer capital! With a few thrown in from Goa or Kerela.)

The TV revolution had just revolutionized our little world and we could think , breathe and visualize colours . One could dream of the yellows of samba, the bleu azzurris , oranje from the dutch land, the Spanish red , the light bleu stripes of the argentinians . The magic was building up… I could feel it in my fingers and I could feel it in my toes!!

Further all the print reports about magic of the short , rotund magician from Buenos aires were making the air even more exciting!

The print pages and our experts from the maidan of calcutta ( Pls note india had been a Olympic semifinalists and asian champions in few decades preceding 80’s!) called it as the cup of the mid fielders/ attacking midfielders. I couldn’t get the logic as I would think the world soccer would still be defensive in approach with the Italian wall having stolen the cup away the last time. I was glad , it was moving forward anyway!

The curly haired magician, Michel platini was all ready to sound his bugle. The deadly trio of Gullit, Van basten and Rijjkard wanted to do what cryuff couldn’t and were riding high on recent success. Sans smoke mais déjà mari (jua) nated magician maradona was showing off the rippling thighs in his short, stout frame. My favourite .. the low profile, gentleman from the streets of rio.. who could weave magic when needed , was Zico ! The prayers for brazeel started that fateful year and have continued since then!!

Brazeel has been the favourite since then and ritualistic prayers have ensured the ones around have followed my efforts of asking the gods to shower special blessings on the yellow jerseys! My 20 month old sang Brazeee and my 6 year old forced leezy, our dear dutch friend, to wipe off the dutch colours from his cheeks during the Brazilian dutch encounter in 2010. Am glad to have passed on the love for samba magic!!

Mexican waves , maradona’s last laugh both with the hand of god goal and goal of the century, zico’s drooping shoulders after the penalty fumble remain firmly embedded in my memory . I was initiated into the world soccer with late night matches being played on the other side of the planet.

Circa 2010

The world has changed, La liga, EPL and bundesliga are all over television, live. The club transfers of players is tracked and discussed over social gatherings. The fairer sex chants Go Espanyol and talks more of Messi than the usual messy stuff!

The stage was set with the vuvuzelas blowing the world away . It announced African arrival on the world stage in a loud, boisterous and in an emphatic manner. We were gifted two vuvus by chimene and Amelia , our south african friends! They became Rudra’s swords for the entire festive period.

Messi floundered, italinas withered, French bickered, German machinery was visible only in parts, England aka lampard could not be more unlucky but cant blame the queen f and my favourites brazeel bombed while trying out a new dung-a– soccer!

The two finalist did steal the heart away! Dutch played beautiful soccer and for a change kept winning !.. The espanyol delieverd when mattered.

We had a wonderful mix of friends watching the matches at bars, embassies, friends places and the final at dutch ambassador’s residence. The boisterous blowing by rudra on the Spanish goal stunned the entire gathering ! While I rejoiced the Spanish victory , my heart did ache for the magnificent dutch..!

For the entire period, Rudra blew his vuvuzela as much as he could and we got to bond together!! Even though brazeel lost and messi messed, I initiated him into the fantastic world of soccer.. My magic potion from the Cup of 2010!!

Development!

The Mango tree in front of my house!

It stands tall and arrogant ….Have seen it erect ..all by itself .. challenging the others in the lane with its swagger and with the circumference of its chest.. Always happy and fresh .. I have seen it for the last five years… It has nurtured my feelings and emotions all these years .. I have only taken from it…. Never given back anything…

He ..and not it… is unique… He has fruits all the year round!!

Any point of time…it has small green sour mangoes hanging on the fresh branches.. i love them in my pickle bottle..

It always has some mature green ones which are untouchables for me and who I leave to enjoy the transition from puberty to ripe youth…

There are a few orange, few semi red, few semi yellow.. some half green and half yellow.. and some with plethora of shades making it the fruit royal!

I taught my son colours couple of years back…green .. orange , what red is and of course yellow ... The mango tree aided me in the same..

The tree has been with US for years now… He is part of our daily chores.. When he wants to shed some leaves. it adds to the chores of our gardener ..

He gives us the most delicious mangoes ….

My Mango tree is the best .. sturdiest, longest, greenest hunk of the lane!

A sad Thursday.. viral fever afflicting of us and then this un-green scene in the lane..

I have counted 72 chopped trunks in the lane -today!!!
All in the name of infrastructural development..

My tree still sways with its usual swagger… I dread the coming weeks..

Just saw a Chinese mark vehicle with a Chinese gentleman talking to my security guard!

God bless the week ahead

A Day with the Bonobos…

Promises to keep.! One is often burdened with the heavy responsibilities that come along with this seven letter word- Promise! This one was made early this week to my 5.5 year old son. Visit to Bonobos reserve park this Sunday! And I couldn’t escape the ordeal of driving some 30 kms away from the city to visit this reserve park for Bonobos. In the bargain , I missed out on my tennis and the mutton Biryani.

While my son had made elaborate plans which ranged from peanuts and bananas for Bonobos and marsh mellows, chips, juice and sandwiches for the visitors, I was more keen on the 3 kilometer trek through the woods.

And the bag had to be prepared the evening before ! Yes we went to the super market at 9 pm to ensure we had stuff which suited the pallete of the mighty Bonobos, The peanuts at home were summarily rejected by Rudra because they were spicy and the bonobos might not relish that!!

Bonobos- 98% of the genetic imprint is like homo sapiens . Could see that; They could peel off bananas in a more dexterous manner than me! . Found only in the Congos – precisely to the south of river Congo, They were elevated to a species status in early 20th century. Till then they were considered to be from the family of chimpanzees and are still popularly known as pygmy or dwarf chimps.

The most amazing thing which I noticed when a bonobos spread its palm to take a banana from Rudra- The presence of heart line, head line and a life line – akin to the human palm…

Are palmists and astrologers listening…

I kept trying hard to delve into the 2 % difference in the genetic imprint from the Homo sapiens .. I couldn’t observe a thing till the guide enlightened me –

When the Bonobos have a disagreement with each other they tend to hug or share food instead of having a fight. Bonobos have never been observed to KILL each other.

How different from the Homo Sapiens!!

EXPATS IN DARK CONTINENT

The Dark Continent has its own ways of getting the glue with its expatriates. Wish the expats themselves could answer it. The oft debated and deliberated upon topic over a glass of scotch- How and why do they continue to live for months, years and decades in this part of the world. Myriad responses emerge - Some very black or white, some have grey shades but the best that I have ever heard has been from a Greek friend of mine- “I have lived my dream here”!!

It is vague but the bondage between the continent and its expatriate inhabitants is quite unique….

In my decade long stay, I have come across expatriates of all kinds in Africa.


They range from a fourth generation Asian expatriate; an owner of a few hundred million dollar biz empire. Born in Africa; the person did his schooling in Africa and then moved over to US for university and masters. Having served for few years in Europe, middle east and south east financial capitals and in high profile financial institutions, Has come back to control the African empire . A difficult and unique decision but he wants to be where the bucks come from…

There are other 3rd generation Indian expats who don’t know what India is but have built a biz model which can be envied by entrepreneurs with training in elite Business Schools or those teaching entrepreneurship skills at Harvard business school. They will smoke and drink anything but will always eat Indian cuisine at home though peppered with generous amounts of the hot – err hottest pilli pilli and still use their native language to converse within the family. They have localized to a large extent and understand the local terrain and local language very well. They go to school in Switzerland and university in US/ Canada but will remain an Indian at heart. Unique they are!

Another group is of second generation Indian expats.. With parents willing to stick out their neck in the chaotic times of sixties and seventies in Africa, they stand to have inherited a fortune due to the exodus of the previous rulers of their colonies. They used the newly acquired fortune to study in US universities and then come back to handle the fledgling businesses with high real estate values. Many of this breed lead an aristocratic life with an US colored view of world while financing their elite lifestyle of driving luxurious cars , champagne evenings and super elite holidays with greens earned from this dark land.

An admirable set of hardworking, thrift spenders, maintaining a normal style even after having made a fortune is of First generation entrepreneurs who arrived in early eighties and strived hard in the difficult times to make it big. A very admirable set who still know the value of money and who still spend long hours day after day trying to maximize their return on investment.

There are hordes of CAs, MBAs and engineers from India who have made Africa their haven, some came for a few years to make some quick bucks and then carry on with their life. Most stayed on... few moved to Australia and Canada after having saved ENOUGH and very few returned home to eat the parathas as they couldn’t survive this world.

There are many who came and didn’t make it big but sill did enough to ensure a good life for family and self. They got into basic trading business and carried on!!
This is the largest set of expat set across the continent. There are hordes of traders and shop owners of asian and Lebanese origin selling toothpaste to tomato paste.

I have also come across tons of young clumsy teens from villages of Gujarat and Kutch. On the behest of relatives or someone from extended family, they ventured into the unknown land and have survived managing shops of their owners and saving a few hundred dollars every month. The night clubs of Africa and the many of the local birds flying inside the dark alleys of the club owe their living to these gentlemen.

A different but unique genre is of the men who have betrothed local women from powerful local families. This has helped them to get special concessions required to launch big businesses and make tremendous wealth. Salutations to this set on their high degree of adaptability.

The continent was inundated with Greek gods during the decades of sixties to 80’s. The entire trade in agri commodities was in hands of our Greek brethren. They would talk proudly of their ancient heritage with the assumption that they were born to dominate wherever they were. Their dominance has considerably waned over last few decades but their life style, their self confidence and their belief in the continents wealth generating capabilities ensured they continue to eke their dreams here! Yes, they still are lords of coffee going to coffers of nestle or beans of cocoa circumventing their ways into factories of Cadburys.

I have a large set of friends whose grandfathers were part of the colonial empire. While the MEN in question moved back to France, Belgium Portugal or England way back when the African nations ushered in independence, their progeny found it hard to get away. They were so used to the the basic comfort of the place while growing up and the belief that they were more networked here than in their European terrain, decided to stay over here. Some of them had followed their grandparents ; but returned within few years to make a living out here. They still live a great life here. They ride horses. Travel all over the world to watch Formula one , own properties in key locations in Europe and holiday in exotic locations. They are more African than many native Africans. They feel more at home in this native land. Europe remains a holiday and shopping destination for them.

I have plethora of friends who left their troubled land of Lebanon a few decades back and made the continent as their home. The entire trade in west and central Africa is dominated by our Lebanese brothers. Most of them have thrived on the chaos of the last 30 years and have made a rock solid business empire. They have a large set of young boys from their villages who help them monitor this business empire. These are the ones who are the most visible Lebanese face in the restos, night clubs and places of interest to any tourist. And count on their gelled wet look and an enormous swagger when they enter a night club! Kudos to their self confidence! Most of them still need to sit for the pre university exams!

I have also come across friends who serve in embassies of different developed or developing countries. These belong to the haloed set who live life king size in big mansions, play golf 10 hours a week and still make money-;). Many of them want to prolong their stay in Africa.

These are the expats who sit and shine in the dark land, they use the African safari into a worthwhile adventure to make a career, a business, a life and live their dream.

Give it to all kinds of these expats… They have made a choice and have lived it to the hilt.

And To my friends, peers and family who wonder on my choices in life--
Two roads diverged in a wood, I chose the one less travelled and that has made all the difference!

लीक पर वें चलें जिनकेचरण दुर्बल और हारे हैं,

हमें तो जो हमारी यात्रा से बनेऐसे अनिर्मित पन्थ प्यारे हैं ।

To my Niece- Shreya- Bon Chance!!

The countdown has begun ! Next month would be your month. For you will weave magic , wriggle out of challenging hours with a big grin and achieve glory.. Inshallah!

This is a momentous occasion, Grade 10 exams! Let me take you through the reason why so much importance is associated in our psyche to this silly test .
Pre Independence times ,only the elite Indians went to the university. Any native who was a matriculate was respected , considered educated and was guaranteed a job. Post independence many more people got access to university but the basic defining criterion for having having the halo of intelligence remained the percentage scored in grade 10.

Moreover , In the India of 60s to 90s, Plus two education was still carried in universities. Thus, The grade 10 scores acquired paramount importance for they opened the gates of the premier universities which of course ensured you had a tag worthy of a good career. And the importance of a good tag of a good university has always made one comfortable in an interview room.
Ask the previous two generations how they sweated it out for grade 10 scores and u know the reason now!

Times have changed and evolved for better. Grade 10 scores neither give u the tag of “ educated” and guarantee a job like pre independence times. Neither do they get you into a premier university .
You could end up walking in the same corridors of DPS with the same bunch of friends. Hence, there is nothing much you can do with the scores you get here. This is not the world cup final and this is not the last ball where a six has to be hit for victory. This is just a friendly match!!
This should take off the pressure. Take a deep long breath and feel the sudden magic in yourself ! Coz there is no pressure! You can feel you can play all the strokes and play a gem of an innings ! This can only happen when there is no pressure and there is no pressure cause the stakes are not very high. So go ahead and hit sixes and make a century! You can do it !

But this Match has its own importance and that is much more than getting in a university which is a brand.

Self Belief and this competitive world- . This is the first public test of your life. A good performance makes you feel confident about yourself and enhances your self belief. That is what takes you places in this materialistic world. Get pounds of it and you manage to take on the world. So a good score here will ensure that at the end, You can thump your chest and say I did it with no one around me, Not even mum and dad! Go ahead and crack it!

Habit of winning- Winning is a habit and it comes early. For my generation , the one who took to this habit at an age of 16 and has stuck to it ever since is no else than Sachin Tendulkar- God of cricket! Believe me, Winning is more addictive than cocaine. So its better to start early and get addicted to this habit.
These exams provide you the right platform to get the glue – Go and become an addict!!

And yes , You are the first of the gen next ! So lead from the front and become a role model for the the entire gen. I was the youngest so I never got a chance to become a role model. Few get a chance and you have it - not by design but by gods grace ! Make full use of the chance given to you by god, a chance to inspire the entire generation of the family!

And then , There is this challenge! This one should excite you , pump you up and get the adrenalin going ! Here is the gauntlet. Can u beat my score of 85% by a margin of 5%?? Try it out… Both of us will emerge happier and proud!

Go ahead and make us proud, My Dear!