This year has begun with great promise: one made by me, some made by life. After all the running around and hassles of the years gone by, there looks to be signs of peace.
There is hope that we can settle down (in more ways than one), let go of the trifles of everyday living, and rest.
2015 is coming to an end, and with that a phase of life draws to a close. In wishing you all a very happy 2016, and indeed, the rest of your life, I also wish goodbye to the days that have passed… This poem is a celebration of the era that draws to a close today – childhood, with all its vicissitudes and victories, with all its charms and challenges, with all its memories.
I hope you had a great 2015. I wish you all the love, hope, strength, and fulfilment in 2016!
Here’s something I had written earlier, forgotten about completely, and rediscovered recently. Since summer is still marauding us these days, I think publishing a poem about winter still makes sense.
After all, aren’t we all in a perpetual yearning for the beautiful days of the past or the beautiful days of tomorrow? Aren’t we all just looking for an escape even when we know there isn’t one?
At times, your words don’t come from you. They are too powerful to belong to one voice, their meaning too deep for one tale. Recently, I uttered some of this sort. They were said to someone I know in a jovial tone, without much thought gone in their formation.
And yet, when I reflected on them, I was saddened. Extremely. By their weight, the lost possibilities they spoke of, the grief of demise they had. Moved, I wrote this poem, and made those words its title. Let me know how you like it.
रिश्तों की उम्र कौन माप पाया है?
कुछ सदियों ज़िंदा रहते हैं, हमें शेरों-कहानियों में मिलते हैं। कुछ पूरी ज़िन्दगी अपने पैरों पर खड़े होने में लगा देते हैं, कुछ पूरी ज़िन्दगी हर दिन जीते हैं। हर एक की अपनी उम्र होती है। हाँ, कहानियां सबकी एक ही लगती है मुझे।
काफ़ी रिश्तों को क़रीब से देखा है मैंने। पाया है की जहां ख़ुशी है, रंग हैं, वह सब लोगों के अपने हैं। पर जहां कलह है, दुःख, रुस्वाई है, उन सबकी एक सी पहचान होती है। ऐसा लगता है की मानों एक को देख लिया हो, तो सबको देख लिया। हम उन्ही मसौदों पर रूठते हैं, वैसे ही बेगैरद लहज़े से बात करतें हैं, उसी दर्द से बिछड़ते हैं, वही आंसू रोते हैं… सब वही है, हमने कुछ नहीं सीखा है। इन्ही उलझनों से गुज़रने का नाम हमने ज़िन्दगी कर दिया है। यही चेहरे, यही मोड़, यही सब चलता रहता है, एक के बाद एक, दोबारा…
इन्ही किस्सों, कहानियों, दोस्तों, और लोगों के ग़म को देखा है मैंने, और उसे संजो के ये कविता लिखी है। उमीद है कुछ पसंद आएगी।
Gulzar (Click on the image for source.)
There is, arguably, no escape from the ephemeral nature of Life.
We sail on a sea of motion, where the tides of Time and Chance decide our destinations as much as the forces of Will and Desire. Life is lost and found in the finite moments of tranquility that exist in the storms that ravage, ceaselessly, these waters. And we are all, always, fighting for these moments.
Which is why, at times, it seems prudent to forget the big picture, let go of the dream of the golden shore of destination that awaits on the other side. They will come, yes; but for what it is worth, we could always breathe a little. Make do with the simple pleasures that abound in the featureless commonality and redundancy of Routine. Love ourselves a little.
We know not when the wind will change its course, we know not what the weather gods decide, we can never foresee what the next moment will bring. But if we enjoy what we have, when we have it, no joy is too small to be celebrated.
I have written earlier of Gulzar’s celebration of everyday objects, occurrences, and experiences (here and here, for your reading pleasure). This piece, instead, is about everyday sentiments.
Music: Anu Malik
Singer: Asha Bhonsle
पिछले साल सोचा था कि हिंदी में लिखेंगे। वोह तो हुआ नहीं। अब पहले दिन से ही भली शुरुआत कर रहा हूँ।
अक्सर यह देखा है कि ज़िन्दगी से मायूस होते हैं, इससे मोहब्बत नहीं रहती। मज़ाक कि बात नहीं लगती कि हम इसकी बेवफाईओं के कारण इससे नफरत करना जानते हैं, यह भूल जाते हैं कि बेवफा ही सही पर है तो एक ही? यह चली गयी तो जायेंगे कहाँ?
तो इस साल थोडा उम्मीद से शुरू हो, थोड़ी आशा कि ओर चले, इस आरज़ू के साथ आपको एक तोहफा देता हूँ…
Gulzar (Click on the image for source.)
And there it is, we’re almost done with 2013!
Tomorrow, we shall renew our pledges to destiny. Tomorrow we shall try to rise again, with newer hopes. Tomorrow we shall resolve anew to fight for all that we desire. Tomorrow we shall plunge again into the waters of uncertainty, and swim tirelessly toward our place in the sun.
But all that will be tomorrow.
Today, tonight, let us celebrate ourselves. Let us bask in the glory of that what we have achieved. Let us celebrate the warrior in all of us who refuses to lay by the side, and continues walking no matter what. Who doesn’t get bothered by the ups and down, who keeps to the road and journeys on forward!
All you wise, wonderful people – love yourself!
And have a happy new year!
Music: R. D. Burman
Singer: Kishore Kumar
Nothing (Click on the image for source.)
I don’t know whether there is a method in madness or not, but there sure is a bit of divinity in it. In fact, in that state of existence, when we are at our most primeval self, we are closest to all that is good in us, all that the Maker put in, and all that Man, despite his best efforts, hasn’t been able to defile.
And in a morning spent in such phantasms of Life, I came up with this. Do let me know, as usual, how you like it.
Tangled! (Click on the image for source.)
There is serendipity, of course, in life. But for every event ascribed to it, there are ten that fall under the massive euphemism that is accident. Regrettably, we do not make as many fortunate discoveries as unfortunate blunders, and therefore live life in a perennial habit of criticism and moaning.
I must confess here that of this charge, I am guilty than most. The few friends I’ve managed to acquire – though a part of the Facebook generation, I still retain the mental faculty to distinguish between a friend and an acquaintance – in all my years on Earth will testify that I have the propensity to plunge into depths of gloom that would certainly equal, if not challenge, the darks of the Mariana Trench. It is not something I do on purpose, or that my life is a ceaseless Greek tragedy. It is, I guess, just the way I am.
To that end, then, something happened this last week. Something that brought me out totally in contrast to this above version of myself. So much in contrast, in fact, that till now I cannot believe that things came to pass in the manner they did.
Here’s what happened…