Tuesday, November 5, 2013

फिर से तुलसी चखते हैं | (Poetic attempts to strengthen long broken bonds)

(Nirmal (निर्मल) was my Grandfather's name and Vidya (विद्या) was my Grandmother's. 
I am dedicating this poem to our carefree days of childhood that are not riddled with fake egos of adulthood. I have no shame in saying things are wrong. I hope these poems affect those who share the same hurdles in adult relationships. Families grow up with love and break with age. No one says it out loud. I do. Lets hope anyone feeling or going through the same phase figures it out. Lets hope this poem helps them.)

जिन सीढ़ियों पे आठ जोड़े पैर
उंगलियाँ नापा करते थे,
उन पर अब हमारे अहम की नज़र भी जाना ना चाहे |

छोटी छोटी उँगलियों से
जिन छतों पर हम बाजे बजाते,
उन्ही छतों से ऊँचे बड़े अब बैर हैं हमारे |

सफ़ेद से अक्षर काले खम्बों पे
लिखा करते थे,
अरे हम धुलने वाली साड़ियों से 
घर बुना करते थे |

तुलसी को चखते थे,
आंगन में झूलते;
नाली से निकली हुई गेंद को
मार मार के सुखाना ना भूलते |

उन्ही काले खम्बों में और कपड़ों के ढेर में;
टूटे पुराने झूले,
और न जाने कितनी सूखी गेंदों में;
नरमी हमारी अटक गयी है |

मासूम से थे हम,
अब जान कर अंजान है;
पर क्या करें हम,
की ये दूरी हमें खटक नहीं रही है |

ये क्यूँ खटक नहीं रही है?

बचपन में ही छोड़ दिया वो निर्मल मन और उसकी विद्या.
इस उम्र की जिद हमसे छूट नहीं रही है |
अब इस उम्र की जिद हमसे टूट नहीं रही है |

बिनती है तुम सबसे,
आपस के दरवाज़े खोलो |
उसी निर्मल मन से,
चालों मिल कर हाथ जोड़ो |
दिल से उसकी विद्या को याद करते हैं,
चलो उसी आँगन मे, 
फिर से तुलसी चखते हैं |

Friday, May 11, 2012

Dedicated to my Late Grand Father

जो तू होता आज यहाँ, 
तुझको "तू" न कहती मै |
इतनी दूर तू बैठा है,
तुझको माँ - सा याद करती मै |

एक उसे तू कहा,
एक तुझको तू कहती मै |
मिलता था तो "आप" कहती,
काश तब भी "तू" वाला  प्यार करती मै |

तेरे बिना घर घर नहीं लगता,
तेरे बच्चों को अब डर नहीं लगता |
जिन्हें खिलाता था तू दाल रोटी,
शायद भूल गए हैं सूरत तेरी |
बेटा बेटी पोता पोती,
सब भूल गए हैं सीरत तेरी |

अब तो लगता है जैसे,
एक तू ही आखरी बरगद था |
तेरे जैसा मन क्या,
तेरी आह जैसा कोई दिल ना रहा |
तेरी पूजा जैसा कोई मंदिर ना रहा,
तेरे घर जैसा कोई छत ना रहा |

गिन गिन कर दिन अब काट टी मै,
तेरी खातिर चुप रह जाती मै |
जो तू होता आज यहाँ,
सबको चुप कर जाती मै |
जो तू होता आज यहाँ, 
तुझको "तू" न कहती मै |

Sunday, July 24, 2011

जो भी हो सो हो ...

i frankly dont know why i am writing this note...i am not tagging any one...those who really want to...will read it any way..

first things first...this is not a review...although it might seem like one...i wont be scrambling the anatomy of the film's screenplay...the bottom line is that this film works...may be because it tells the truth...of how trapped we are...and how we cant let go...and how badly we want to..it shows us the things we want to do but dont...quaintness we want to experience but cant...silences we want to touch but will not...

it has tought me a lot and justified my love for film making...the lingering feel it has left me with...makes me want to cut down allot of things from my bucket list...yes...i have always had one...i dont know where this note is going...but i just want to jot down some where about this after taste...its like drinking water...mountain water may be...but ZNMD stands tall because of what it shows (not how it shows) ...and may be someday...we all will break free of our shackels...may be ill start falling in love with myself...may be you will...with some one else...but the philosophy of living each moment...no matter how romantic it may sound...is a luxury of the "haves"...currently...i am a "have not"...but the main point is..

Jab jab dard ka baadal chaya

Jab ghum ka saya lehraya

Jab aansoo palkon tak aya

Jab yeh tanha dil ghabraya

Humne dil ko yeh samjhaya

…Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai

Duniya mein yunhi hota hai

Yeh jo gehre sannate hain

Waqt ne sabko hi baante hain

Thoda ghum hai sabka qissa

Thodi dhoop hai sabka hissa

Aankh teri bekaar hi nam hai

Har pal ek naya mausam hai

Kyun tu aise pal khota hai

Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Reverence Vindicated

I have revered Filmfare ever since I knew about it. Correction. I had revered Filmfare. Ever since I understood the word “Career” I wanted to be a film maker; and hence I loved this award. I didn’t understand why Amir Khan had such a problem with them. I didn’t care. I loved Filmfare. But what took away my love for it? Ever since they created the Best Debutant Director award, I eyed it with lust. THAT would be mine to begin with. But last year, I decided that even if I get THAT, I won’t accept it. Here I was waiting for the Best Debutant Director award to go to Ayan Mukherjee for Wake up Sid, which he did get in the end. But alas, now I knew why Amir Khan didn’t attend Filmfare. At least I guessed it. The award had been divided into male and female categories. Ayan Mukherjee got the Best Debutant Director Male, and the Best Debutant Director Female Award went to Zoya Akhtar. Her family tree was a cause to be addressed later. What on earth was this Male-Female division? I mean what was next? Best Editor Male, Best Editor Female? Best Cinematographer Male, Best Cinematographer Female? You see what I mean? It was the most humiliating thing I had ever experienced. And even if there was a Male-Female division in this category, who deserved it more? Zoya Akhtar for Luck By Chance, or Nandita Das for Firaaq? And will this Award/Humiliation continue till Filmfare continues? Or was it just for this particular year, for Zoya Akhtar had directed her first film? I mean will this award even get enough nominees? It would be like winning a race where only you ran? Quite an irony, when the same year Kathryn Bigelow became the first woman to win the Oscar for Best Director (James Cameron was also nominated). All in all, my respect for Filmfare was gone.

But like I have always believed…things have a way of being heard. From this year on, I revere Tweeple Film Awards @twi_fi_awards. Awards of the tweeple, for the tweeple and by the tweeple. Thank the lord. Respect for the people who came up with it. We have hope. 26 most eminent critics of the country are already on the critics panel, and voting is on for the tweeple jury. But we need your support. We need some sense to prevail. We need the real art to be awarded and let the real artists prevail. We need to make ourselves heard, and we need to award the people who deserve it. Come and become a part of history.

Follow the awards on twitter @twi_fi_awards and vote. Let your voice be heard.

I am sorry if i look angry...if i seem so...it means i am. Film making IS my blood and i do not want a disease. But lets start in good faith and good fun. Cheers! Bring in the laurels!

Sunday, September 5, 2010

The World is Calling

31st August and 1st September became quite a discovery for me. A random Indian morning...a day full of accommodation and assimilation...no hopes what so ever in the system...bad roads, disregard of traffic rules, commonwealth screw up news, and many such things, which didn't quite make a difference any more.

The big end of the day, however, came as quite a revelation.

My Bua had been diagnosed with dengue and admitted in a hospital in the middle of the night and needed 4 B+ blood male donors between 19 to 50 years of age before 6am. The frantic search began. My parents went to the hospital to arrange. Meanwhile me and my sister (Bua's younger daughter) frantically called every one we could to come and donate. the hospital kept rejecting our donors on many counts and the clock kept ticking. i had, in between all this commotion, managed to tweet our urgent need and my number. honestly i didn't expect much out of it. what with it being the middle of the night and who would be kind enough to take the effort..that too on a twitter call.

But when every thing failed..twitter came to rescue. @ankitanks came all over from Rohini to Patparganj to donate blood. and he was the most compassionate person i had ever come across..just my age..22..ambitious...independent..and compassionate. it was so unreal..i found it hard to believe. but by morning...when all our donors had been rejected, and we had lost all faith...my phone rang. it was an sms by @itscreation. he msgd me the number of a service which provided us donors of any blood group we wanted. and it worked. we found another donor through it.

by sunrise. @ankitanks was here and he was fresh and bright. you can see him in the picture above, filling out the donor form. he sent his blood for testing by 7:45 and waited till 11:30 for the results. meanwhile my dad asked me about the status, and i said "the world is calling" ...all my tweeps were re tweeting my need, smsing me and calling me! @sparklinguy @kyrasinging2 and @itscreation kept calling me and helping me find donors and they did not rest until i told them that alas @ankitanks 's blood was the only blood that got accepted.

My buddy @waseembits who is also a doctor, n a twipal since real real long, called my sister and enquired about her health statistics and wished her well. He prays for her druing ramzaan.

Wow. what a world. complaining, as we go about our day, we one day do realize, that the goodness isn't yet dead. people are compassionate and human. people we need but do not deserve...like a silent guardian. i for one am proud of my generation. my dad is now proud too. May be it was this positive vibe that my Bua started recovering that very day. as of now she is on 82k platelets count and hopefully will fully recover soon. i have no words to describe how moved i was that day. people tweeting and apologizing for not having B+ blood group..asking again and again how is she. i don't care how good a write up this post is...this story deserves to be told.

i am scared to death by a needle...but come what may, i am a healthy person and i am now going to come out and donate. here is to the lost, derailed, fun loving, tweeting generation, it is also a giving generation. cheers to us. go out and donate. i am sure it will be a wonderful experience.

Monday, July 19, 2010

कहानी ख़तम है..या शुरुआत होने को है.. सुबह नयी है ये.. या फिर रात होने को है .. (This is NOT a film review)

Some places become just more than places in your life…they become you. Udaan is one such film that takes you back to such places. It was almost a memory extracted right from my brain when I saw the first scene of kids sneaking out of their dormitory as soon as the warden disappears. I didn’t go to Bishop Cotton School like them…but I sure was a boarder of Bishop Westcott. It is one such place that becomes me. Well, I sure didn’t cross the wall to watch “Kaanti Shaah ke Angoor”…but I did know quite a few teachers who might have!

It is a different feeling all together when you leave the hostel gates with a one way gate passes. Especially when you look behind at your friends, you partners in crime, and those walls around which you framed yourself. Udaan is a film that shows us what we did, what they did, and what they told us not to do. We and they; all did the same things none the less. It, oh so beautifully, splits open our own head and shows us what we are, what we were and what we yearn to be. Dazed and confused to the world, the teen heart, the teen mind, but also the most beautifully naïve and fresh, the teen mind, the teen heart. The bravest, not corrupted with the knowledge of dangerous and safe. Yes, the bravest indeed. Age is foolish and forgetful when it under estimates the youth (by J.K. Rowling).

I am no one to judge how good or how bad the film was. But I sure know that no one can deny the raw reality behind this film. The reality being responsibility. The responsibility that the young are ever so frequently reminded of, but the responsibility rarely practiced by the imparters. What can a teacher teach me, who screws around behind his wife? How can a father make his son, a man; when he himself is spineless? I am just one of the lucky few, who have a perfect father. But it’s time that the ticker skin, disguising his tyranny and hypocrisy with age, power an experience realize, that rebellion is not just a fashion today…we are born with it. It’s the basic jungle rule. Self preservation. Survival. If the one who gives you his flesh and blood thinks he can own you, and disfigure you; you can any day be at the liberty of disowning him.

Frankly I have no idea of what I am writing…but I have personally seen fathers screwing around with other women and expecting it to be the mother’s fault when his boy smokes. It’s the most blatant form of blasphemy. Either you fix him or fix yourself. Either let him bind you or take your own flight. But do not become him. Never blame your faults to be his. Once again I must say, I am blessed to have a father like mine…and feel sorry for those who have not got a father figure in their father. Go ahead. Set yourself free….take your flight of success. UDAAN.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

With love – From the Virtual world

There are certain things in our life that the senior generation cannot understand. They shouldn’t be blamed for it but they should accept it. Many of such things are the vibes we share with our friends. We experience a kind of friendship today that they never witnessed in their youth. Friendship for them is a waste of time, more often than not. They were the better kind you know…they studied more I agree. That mettle is no longer made.

However, even though we do “waste” our time with friends, the virtual world has helped us keep in constant touch with those buggers we waste our time with! Friends from every phase of time, whose old landline numbers and addresses had long changed, came back together. I personally was thrilled to see all my friends from KG grow into such beautiful people!

It became a gradual principle for me to add only the friends I personally know to my Facebook account…maintaining my privacy…although the list had more than 300 friends. (“I cant believe you have more than 200 friends you personally know!”) Then came in Twitter…now very aptly described as “for people you wish you went to school with”. It was a place to interact with people you never met! Where you would never get the “do you wanna fraansip wimmi” requests! Where shockingly only 140 characters did it! Where you could #ashtag things and make them worldwide TTs! Where just a #nowplaying could describe my mood. Where everybody is so beautifully honest.

There I went…and there I met @SI2iJaN @priyamigo @maletwittur and @VanDiablo. We all were campaigning against #ShivSena and supporting @iamsrk . Spreading things like #getwellsoonshivsena got us to follow each other. We campaigned so much that #ShivSena joind twitter ans started following us! Keeping an eye on their enemy. So we wrote #BlockShivSena…and what’s cooler than twitter suspending their account for “suspicious activity” within 5 minutes of their joining! Damn we had become friends! We also played the most awesome virtual holi ever (========>pichhh...throws u in d mud and jumps over). I never thought I could ever call someone I had never met, a friend! But it just kept growing! I met @hackernewbie @waseembits @nisnishu24 @gynelwazlib @arccleo @biorahul @manav_dhiman @karan_jain and so many other tweeps…people with amazing sense of honesty, integrity and pure fun.

But after all its virtual! If I can “waste” my time with real friends…what’s twitter? Even though, I had reached 300 followers, was listed 20 time and was more than 6000 tweets old…one day I had to delete that dear account of mine. In fact it was 2 days ago that I did it. I couldn’t take being reminded what a total waste of my time it was, with every tweet I made. May be it was…maybe it was not. But it sure was therapeutic tweeting every morning my thoughts and reading your thoughts. It was a vent for me! It was a place full of honest young kids who had made for themselves a little world where just 140 characters were enough. I did not realise how important it was for me to be there until I deleted my account. I wanted to rejoin every minute! So I went back and searched for my friends…thinking “What’s the use…who would remember me! After all its just virtual!” But twitter always pleasantly surprises me. I saw my friends discussing that I am gone and missed. How could that be a waste of time! May be ill never understand. But it sure was the most valuable gift the virtual world has given me. Thank you my awesome tweeps! I miss you all too. I am following all your blogs! I just won’t be able to give you more #FF s. Much love! and my much loved *poof* ! :)