रिश्ता

एक वक़्त था, जब पेंसिल रंग छोड़ती थी कागज़ पर
प्लास्टिक के बटन, आवाज़ तो करते हैं
पर रिश्तों की वो चुभन कहाँ

उँगलियाँ चलती हैं की-बोर्ड पर
नज़्म लेती जाती है रूप अपना
पर कुछ फ़ासला सा लगता है दरम्यान दोनों के

पैगम्बर

चमकती तीरगी की बेरहमी
जब हद से बढ़ जाती है
चीखती खामोशियों की गर्मी
जब झुलसा देती है तहज़ीब के पनपते बीज
और कुछ कहने और सुनने को
बचता नहीं ख्याल की बंजर ज़मीन पर
...
तेरी रहमत का भेजा एक मासूम सा कतरा
जन्म लेता है इस वीरान कागज़ पर
और नज़्म कहलाता है

the other kind of emptiness

the clock mentions it is 10:17 pm or as i'm used to writing 22:17 (hangover from an overdose of loads of Hollywood army movies while growing up!). i'm about to call it a day. some work was finished, some not even started, but as there is nothing that urgent, i guess i should leave. what hurts more is that in order to finish office work on tight deadlines, i happen to lose sight of some very important personal work. and now, one more day has gone!

mind is kind of empty right now. not in the literal sense. there is so much inside that all of it together is not making any sense. so while i can pick and choose and lay threadbare whatever is going inside my mind right now, i don't have the patience. this is the other kind of emptiness. when you are so full with something that it starts meaning nothing. like too much of beauty or money! 

when you have too much of something, you start to drift away from it. fullness breeds emptiness it seems. what do you think?

22:25, Thursday, August the fourth, 2011

sometimes at the edge of a day i sit and... write

The day is a road which ends at the cliff of the night. From the edge of it we all take a leap and drown in its unfathomable waters, only to emerge unharmed, renewed, and ready for the next day.

Sometimes at the end of a day I sit on its edge and reminisce how my journey was. I think we all do this knowingly, unknowingly. (In matters like these, we’ve not been given much choice.) And sometimes at the end of the road we are propelled with such great momentum that our only moment of reminiscing is just before hitting the warm, inky depths of the night.

We writers are generally not blessed with such a swift end to our journeys. By our very nature, we are addicted to trying and prolonging this leap, that epiphany between jumping from the cliff and hitting the waters. Though this rarely happens, the road ends sooner than expected, the precipice beckons and we’ve but no choice to end it all, then and there.

But sometimes, by some opportunistic sleight, we do manage to pause the wheels of time. On days like these, we sit on the edge of the cliff and look back at the road, trying to derive meaning out of this needless traveling and jumping and re-emerging dripping the dreams of the night.

…
This life is also a road which ends at the cliff of death. From its edge too we take the leap and drown in its unforgiving waters, only to emerge unharmed, renewed and dripping with the karmas of our previous journey.

…
Sometimes at the end of a day like today, I just wish that when my journey finally ends, I’ll be given more than a moment of recollection, that in the moment when I look back, I’ll see a life well spent and a love well earned.

Sometimes at the edge of a day like today, I just wish her to be beside me and the day… to never end.

the good or bad in us

last night, i was watching this movie, Blood Diamond. fantastic movie that, but i'll talk about it some other day. (though i might or might not.) this is perhaps my favorite scene from the movie.

Danny Archer (played fabulously by Leonardo DiCaprio) has taken refuge at a local chief, Benjamin's estate who runs a shelter for war victim children and adults. there is blood and carnage all around this oasis of peace and Danny and his companions have literally escaped death a few hours ago. Danny is actually a diamond smuggler who has got entry after lying that he is a journalist.

the little dialogue between these two opposite characters is fantastic as a critique of the human nature. 

Danny Archer(talking about the rebel soldiers): So you think because your intentions are good, they'll spare you, huh? 

Benjamin Kapanay: My heart always told me that people are inherently good. My experience suggests otherwise. But what about you, Mr. Archer? In your long career as a journalist, would you say that people are mostly good?

Danny Archer: No. I'd say they're just people.

Benjamin Kapanay: Exactly. It is what they do that makes them good or bad. A moment of love, even in a bad man, can give meaning to a life. None of us knows whose path will lead us to God.

think about it. i kept thinking about it. and i realized one thing about me. i've never been able to completely hate a person, even if s/he has done some real harm to me. i've always found some bit of good in them, not that i want to further test my patience! dear God, please don't test me anymore :)

and that is why, i want to ask you, do you, would you also believe that there are no good people or bad people, that there are only good deeds and bad deeds? should we define/brand people as good or bad, or is it about being generally good and generally bad? maybe nobody is completely good or bad, OR maybe there are a few pure souls and a few gone beyond redemption, who knows... maybe we are just supposed to forgive and forget and move on OR maybe we are supposed to fight and seek revenge... who knows?

whatever be the answer(s), what i do agree with is this, "A moment of love, even in a bad man, can give meaning to a life." actually, it gives meaning to all of humanity. do you also think so?

remembering Premchand

July 31 was the birthday of one of the greatest Indian authors Dhanpat Rai, more popularly known as Munshi Premchand. this post is an attempt to compile some web resources about Munshi ji, to serve as an introduction to those who haven't read him before (especially the younger generation), and as a resource to those who would love to remember him more often.

am not writing a detailed introduction here, because one of my favorite bloggers has written this short but beautiful piece on his importance and relevance in our literature and in fact our lives. do read the post, "Premchand is important" here: http://goo.gl/yJh9w

here's a link to his page on wikipedia: http://goo.gl/1m7UE just don't read the story summaries in the end, they'll act as spoilers :)

for majority of his stories and one novel 'nirmala' click here, "Munshi Premchand's creations": http://goo.gl/awf18

and here's a link to download majority of his novels as pdf, "Munshi Premchand collection": http://goo.gl/H3j5f

these links are great resources for new readers though i would really request you to buy a collection of his stories and individual novels as paper books, there are many versions available from a variety of publishers. happy reading!

and in the end, a reminder of what we do to our artists: "Premchand's ancestral home crying for attention" a news report from the Times Of India here: http://goo.gl/ojZTU

hope you found this post engaging. thanks for taking the time.