Humari Kuch Analog Ghadiyaan....

Raat meri Analog ghadi toot gayi,

To maine online Digital waali order kar di,

Par waqt nahi kharid paaya,

Haath mein liye tooti analog ghadi

Pure din Suraj ko Pighalte dekhta raha,

Phir Baadlo ki shaitaniyon mein,

Chupke se dekhta chaand nazar aa gaya,

Aur Ujadi analog ghadi tik tik karne lagi,

Joone lamhe naye jharoke se roshan ho gaye,

 Sardiyon ki dopaharein,

Lucknow  waale ghar ki chat par mulaqaatein,

marham dhoop mein tere haath se khaate kulfi aur anar ke daane,

Shimla ki shaamein,

teri aankhon mein dekhte doobte suraj ki thamin saansein,

Raat ko carter road pe long drive,

Aur subah subah Lodhi garden mein excercise,

Sunday ka brunch preparing teri farmaishein,

For dawaatein of yours, apne pure mohalle ko,

Holidays mein Udaipur ke umaid bhavan mein Raajshahi,

Office time mein, beech beech mein whatsapp par bhejte tujhko smile,

Carnatic music pe tere Manipuri dance ka nazaara,

Tu nashe mein acchi lagti hai, tujhe baar baar kehna,

France ke cafe mein paper napkeen par tere pairon ki tasveer bana na,

Mona lisa ki tasveer dekh ke usko tujhse compare karna,

Tooti analog ghadi ki tooti dhadkan tik tik kar dhadkati rahi,

Agle din digital lauta ke analog order kar di,

Superhero सरकारें....

सरकारें आती है सुपरमैन सी,
झपकी लेती है कैप्टेनअमेरिका सी,
औज़ार खिलोने दिखाएं बैटमैन आयरन मन सी,
करतब दिखाएं आखरी साल में स्पाइडरमैन सी,
सरकारें जाती है सब तहस नहस कर हल्क सी,

तेज़ और फुर्सत...

ज़िन्दगी के बदले ,
वक़्त ने किये खुद के दो हिस्से,
एक हिस्सा फुर्सत को दिया,
एक हिस्सा तेज़ को
तेज़ ने किफायती से किये खर्च,
और बाकी लम्हे फुर्सत को दिये
फुर्सत ने ये लम्हे जिए ऐसे,
की मुनाफे में पल बचा लिए,
और इन् पलों से, वक़्त से फिर ज़िन्दगी खरीद ली,

Long distance

चाँद तेरी आँख का आंसू है,

तरसाता है मुझे हर रात,

पोंछू कैसे इसे यहाँ से,

पहुंचे न मेरा हाथ,

Love and growing up...

1

Clouds were in hiding and sky was shining blue today, enveloping the earth’s head like my Mother’s favourite blue saree pallu used to cover my head while she brought me home from school during scorching summer of Jaipur. Of all the things that I remember and fall in love again & again is that experience, that cool summer afternoon walk. On the way we used to meet old Fagun kaka, the matka kulfi seller who would come to make us kids happy. Mother would buy kulfis every two days, and we would eat them on the way home. It was during those walks that I learnt the habit of looking in eyes of people; roadside men and women who used to stare at my free spirited mother.

2

It was the art class; my favourite class in school. We had been given a small exercise to close our eyes and draw what we saw. After about 10 minutes of closing my eyes, I decorated my white canvas with a painting of her plucking flowers in a garden.

I remember that was the first time, I was taken to principle’s room and also the first when all my classmates laughed at me while she a coyly smiled at me.

Today years later we have kept that painting in our living room.

3

Some incentives are just too good. Like the smell of lipstick on my cheek courtesy to my Primary class Mathematics teacher. It laid the foundations of my great mathematics score later in career.

4

Celebrity crushes are normal, In your Teens they seem like love forever. I still remember when social networking sites had just launched. A new  all women’s FM channel had started in Delhi. Indeed I was hooked to it, not to all of its shows but to one in which she was the RJ or the Radio host as she used to call herself. I had not seen her picture, but had fallen in love with the idea of her as a person based on just her voice. I became so obsessed with her that I tried to imagine her voice in voice of my female classmates, celebrities and singers. I would repeatedly search her name on internet, orkut and facebook. I used to dial her number to participate in all her contests on radio but every time was left dejected due to line being busy from the other end. Most of my efforts to see her, talk to her atleast once were a failure except one.

One day I found her on facebook, sent her a friend request and after waiting for numerous days and nights found her online. I sent her a Hi! Hoping for a reply, and she to my happiness replied back with a Hi. I replied with how I really loved her show and then chatted on How and why she chose this profession, how is it like to work day in day out in the same job. She too asked a little about me and praised me on a little poem I wrote and shared with her. Then she sent me location where I could come and meet her, She said she was going to come to a newly built shopping complex in city on this Sunday. I was elated, so on the designated Sunday, I skipped my coaching classes, wore nice clothes, picked up the greeting card I had designed for her and went to meet her.

But I was dejected as at the location there were hundred other people who had come to meet her. She had organized some game show on bollywood music and was giving frivolous gifts to morons who performed stupidly on idiotic Film Songs.

I had my first bitter taste of infatuation I had mixed up with love. 

2 evenings with Kurumanis

The first evening with Kurumanis

It is one thing to eat your favourite dish every second day and it is another to eat it till the last bite every time.  I wonder what Mr Kurumani would have thought after I kissed his wife’s hand in praise of the mouth watering matar paneer dish she had served me in dinner today. He would not have felt jealous I guess, because later I praised him in the similar fashion for the soul satisfying Kheer he had made for me. I hope they both do something about the idea of opening Kurumani Kitchen in our city.

Most of the residents are bachelors like me who would dream high, criticize people, laze around in bed and wish for a tasty dish rather than learn to cook themselves. Kurumani’s kitchen could be a big hit among this market segment. I could look after marketing and business development, both of them on Product development and manufacturing. Let me draft it on computer and mail it to them. Manufacturing sounds weird for cooking! But, here I go! bam! Mail sent! I should call Shikha now! Its 12 pm!

But I think she would have slept by now, will call her tomorrow.

I don’t know why Shikha calls Mrs Kurumani weird, Mrs Kurumani behaved so nicely today. Gosh! Mr Kurumani is such a lucky guy! I mean, Apart from being prettier than rose petals, Diksha Kurumani runs her own law firm, an NGO for farmers and loves him madly while all Karan Kurumani does is sit at home, visit exotic places and dirty lanes of city to make paintings; nonsense art which no one buys.

Karan is a masseur and runs his parlour and, maybe earns respect in his woman’s eyes through this crumby job. Shikha somehow, I don’t know why she has high regards for Mr Kurumani; maybe because they both belong to same town or is it something else? Sometimes I have suspicions over Shikha...No I can’t be negative and possessive... Breathe in! Breathe out! It is sleep time.

Listening to Mike Oldfield on my mini Bluetooth speakers relieves me off all the stress of the day, It was a bad day at office, client was just not willing to buy our idea of re-inventing his Brand image and extend his company’s Brand Portfolio. (Music playing)

I like this saxophone sound or is that a flute! In this song, oh! Ommadawn is such a soothing piece of music. Times are complex these days, your nerves need such tunes to caress them.

..........

The second evening with Kurumanis

I will always remember today, apart from being yet another terrible day at office, this day has hit me so hard on my head that it has left scars which no good memory or counselling will be able to heal. As I write this incident here, my pen begins to tremble in between my fingers.

I was returning from office and It was raining heavily, the lane to my house was jam packed with cars due to a yet another marriage reception event in our neighbourhood. So I decided to park my car outside Kurumani’s bungalow, which is hardly a Km or two from ours’. As I got off, I thought it would be a good idea to have a cup of tea at Kurumani’s and wait there for rain to slow down.

I was about to enter the Kurumani home when I heard a gunshot from their backyard, I initially disposed it off as a lightning strike, but I realized my idiocy when I heard a second gunshot from the same direction, suspecting something wrong I raced towards the backyard of Kurumani bungalow, what I saw there was horrifying.

Mrs Kurumani had tied her two year old daughter to a chair and was about to shoot her with a bullet from the gun in her hand. The little girl dressed in pink raincoat was though crying in rain but her tears were clearly visible. Maybe, she too, just like me, was shocked seeing her mother this way. I overcame my numbness and ran towards Mrs Kurumani, but before I could push her to floor, Diksha pointed the gun towards me. I got scared as hell seeing the barrel of gun and Diksha’s ferocious big diabolic eyes. Sensing my end, I closed my eyes and started to see images of my times with Shikha and that evening with Kurumani’s.

I was woken up by a touch of Karan on my shoulder. When I opened my eyes, I saw Shikha hugging Diksha who was crying. I got agitated seeing this, so hurried towards Mrs Kurumani, slapped her hard and shouted “stop your drama, you devil”.

Karan held me and said “what nonsense are you saying ? “

I said “she was trying to kill your daughter, her own daughter “

Karan replied “which daughter? what daughter? What the hell are you talking about man!”

I pointed my hand towards the direction where their daughter was tied on chair, but to my amazement she was not there.

Karan went towards Diksha and hugged her tight and said “ I have told you a hundred times not to forget to take your medicines, and give me that gun, I will return it to the security guard”

Shikha hugged me, held my hand and pulled me towards the direction I had parked my car.

We sat in the car, Shikha started the car and told me about Diksha’s disease;  ever since from her childhood Diksha  always wanted to be a shooter, to represent India in Olympics but, after her daughter’s death she could never recover herself. She is suffering from some mental disease. Whenever she sees the gun, she starts her target practices. She was doing the same today.

I was drenched in my emotions from inside when Karan’s voice interrupted me. I saw him talking to Shikha sitting in driver side window. I don’t know what they were talking about, but I remember he definitely laid a peck on her lips. I couldn’t believe my eyes and I am still unsure because the next thing I remember is, Shikha looking straight in my eyes and Karan was no where visible.

Shikha yelled “just come out of it, would you like some music”

I hesitatingly said yes, I have never been so unsure about myself.

We listened to Ommadawn as we headed back home.