प्राण-पखेरू

"उस भयानक दैत्य के प्राण-पखेरू एक तोते में कैद थे", कहानियों में ऐसा पढ़ा था, जब मैं छोटी थी.

"प्राण-पखेरू" यह शब्द सुन कर ही मैं हंसने लगती और कहती, "वो फुर्र्र्रर्र्र्रर से उड़ गए"! कभी इस शब्द की उत्पत्ति (genesis) या संवेदनशीलता (sensitivity) को जानने का प्रयास ही नहीं किया. ध्यान में आता तो बस "फुर्र्र्रर्र्र्र", क्योंकि चिड़िया के बारे में ही तो बात हों रही थी. चिड़िया रुपी प्राणों की.

आज-कल मेरी बिल्ली की तबियत काफ़ी खराब है. पिछले ३ महीनों से वो जूझ रही है अपने भविष्य से. उसकी आँखें धीरे-धीरे पथरीली (stony) और शरीर शिथिल (cold) पड़ते जाती हैं, दिन पर दिन. पीलिया (jaundice) हुआ है, डाक्टर का मानना है.

पहले, रोज़ दौड़ी-दौड़ी आती थी दरवाज़े पर जब भी मेरे पति आफ़िस से वापस आते. स्वागत के लिए 'म्याऊ-म्याऊ' करते हुए एकदम तैनात. करीबन १०-११ किलो की बिल्ली, जो भी देखे यही कहता था "बाप रे कितनी मोटी है". आस-पड़ोस के पुलिसवाले तो यह तक पूछ बैठे थे "चीते का बच्चा तो नहीं पाल रखा आपने, इजाज़त नहीं है ऐसा करने की". हम हँस-हँस कर गर्व से लोट-पोट हुए जाते थे. मुंबई में एक बच्चा उस से खेलते हुए समझाने भी लगा था "तुम बड़ी होकर क्या बनोगी? शेर बन जाना...ठीक है??"

आज २-३ किलो की भी नहीं रह गयी है मेरी 'जोजो'.
यही नाम दिया है हमनें प्यार से उसे. एक बच्चे सा पला है.

जानती हूँ, सबके समझ आनेवाली बात नहीं है यह. सिर्फ पशु-प्रेमी ही जानते हैं एक पालतू प्राणी का महत्त्व. कह दे कोई की बिल्लियाँ वफ़दार या स्नेही नहीं होतीं, लड़ ही पड़ेंगे मैं और मेरे पति उनसे.

अब जब मैं उसे देखती हूँ, मेरा मन करता है उसकी आँखों में झाँक कर बात करूं उस पंछी से, जिसका नाम है "प्राण-पखेरू" और रो-रो कर विनती करूं, के मत उड़ जाना.

 मेरे बचपन के हास-परिहास (ridicule) का प्रतिशोध (revenge), मूक जोजो से मत लेना.

अभी कुछ वक़्त और चुग लो, इस घर का दाना.

(नोट : 11:15 AM, 2nd December 2010, जोजो अब हमारे बीच नहीं है...उड़ गया पंछी. भूल नहीं सकती उन आँखों की मौन-याचिका (silent pleading) "माँ, नहीं जाना अभी...कुछ करो ना और बचा लो मुझे")

शिकार पर निकली 'जोजो'

आराम फरमाती 'जोजो'

Native Place

As a family, we always went back to our hometown in the summer vacations. The thought of going anywhere else for holidays never crossed our minds and we proudly announced to the world "We are visiting our Native Place". Grandparents insisted that their children and grandchildren got together at least once a year.

Those were not easy trips. We lived in a godforsaken place called 'Bengdubi' (Beng=Frog, Dubi=to drown, in Bangla) in Darjeeling district. The nearest railway station was around 15 kms away at New Jalpaiguri (NJP). So, first drive down to NJP. Then take a train to Howrah Junction (Kolkata). From there, take the Howrah-Mumbai Geetanjali Express. Then followed the journey with Mumbai-Miraj Mahalaxmi Express or Mumbai-Londha Junction (any train headed to Bangalore or Goa). The final leg began with the Miraj-Hubli or Londha-Hubli Trains.

Bengdubi ---> Siliguri ---> NJP ---> Howrah ---> Mumbai ---> Miraj/Londha ---> Hubli

Hubli, in Dharwar district of Karnataka was our final destination where our grandparents lived. It was a 3000 kilometer travel over 3 or 4 days, one way. Air Travel was only for the rich who valued time over money. But for us, we had more time to spare than money.

We went there every summer, without fail. So did all my other Uncles, Aunts and their children.

For two months it would be like a Jumbo Mela at my youngest Uncle's house. They never complained. 40 people living in a modest 3 bedroom house seemed so normal. Women folk got together and prepared the meals. Men ordered snacks and coffee at odd hours. Sometimes as odd as 2 am. There was some magic to it despite the chauvinistic streak it out-rightly projected. One of the Uncles would say 'Oh I feel like having some coffee'. Another would say 'Ah some spicy poha would be so nice with that'. Slowly all the slept souls would wake up. There was never just Coffee, equal numbers of tea drinkers would raise their hands too.

We, the kids would get the plates & cups ready. Teen aged sisters would be seen chopping Onions & tomatoes. Teen aged brothers had to arrange the durries & mats in anticipation of a big midnight (or early morning) revelry. Aunts and mom struggled to straighten their wrinkled sarees and get the kitchen in action. Uncles and dad could be seen re-arranging Chairs or snuggling into their favourite corner.

One of us had the duty of quietly closing the door on Gandpa & grandma who were fast asleep.

In less than half hour, the living room resembled a wedding hall. Every inch of space occupied and every one of us alert and cured of our defiant sleepy moods. Then began the session of strolling down the memory lane by elders, teasing the 'come of age' cousins regarding their impending marriages, someone would sing, someone would dance, someone would perform a yoga aasana, someone rattled off counting tables, someone mimicked, my parents always sang a duet at such occasions. Merriment continued till early morning. 

Somewhere close to the break of dawn, one of the grandparents would stutter into the room with their walking stick and shout at everyone, demanding everything be stopped that very instant.

The fact that my mother belonged to the same city added to the fun. My maternal relatives were there too.

This continued in our family for a very long time until the late 1980s. But as we became teenagers and started hearing travel tales of people who visited hill stations or beaches in their Dussera, Summer or Winter breaks, we questioned our parents. Sometimes we got lame answers like 'we should always be in touch with our roots' and sometimes no answers at all. This made us resent our vacations.

We wanted to see the world, not go back to the same place every year. Darjeeling, Shillong, Guwahati, Gangtok, Dulabari were so close by yet we had never been there. We pestered out parents until they relented. One year we went to Meghalaya. Another year to Assam. Slowly our trips to Hubli reduced.

After so may years, now I realise 'going back to roots' has nothing to do with the place you visit. It is the people you are keeping in touch with....the culture you feel you belong to. And the culture can be something as simple as what you ate, what you wore and how you spoke. Funny that these things are ingrained in ones senses. Just close your eyes and you can smell it.

Having lived a life well traveled, I feel I belong nowhere.

I long for those midnight gatherings where I knew I could press my tired Aunt's legs without having been asked or tell Archu Tai to oil my hair without thinking twice. Thankfully we still get together like this for marriages!

I am sure our parents had all kinds of problems (leave/money/peer pressure) but they took extra trouble to make sure that everyone remained in touch and on good terms. Now we have social networking and cellphones do that for us....well almost!

Am so glad Partha was a part of this too @ prashant's wedding

Reliving our midnight dhamaal - Bunty & Gayatri dancing 

Dad & his brothers dancing 

Happy midnight mela

midnight dancing on the terrace

Everyone but me

When anything goes wrong,
I ask "Why me"?

When all are given attention and only I am ignored,
I ask "Why everyone but me"?

Let me change the sequence and try asking...

When anything goes wrong with all yet I am safe,
"Why everyone but me"?

When only I am ignored,
"Why me"?

Maybe this way I will get some constructive answers to my queries so I learn to...

Thank God in case of  "Why everyone but me"

Or rectify the mistakes I am making, in case of  "Why me"

Golf & Life

Started a new blog on my love-hate relationship with Golf :)
http://golfroll.blogspot.com/2010/11/it-has-been-month-since-i-thought-i.html

बँटवारा

बैठक की चटख लाल दीवारउसपर तस्वीरों की भूल-भुलैया,

सुनहरी धारियों वाली प्यालियाँ,

बरामदे का वो झूला

और धूप से सने पडदे,

जायज़ हक है तुम्हे,

हवाले तुम्हारे ही सब कुछ.

मेहनत की कमाई से,

सिक्कों में जो तौला है,

तुमने रुपयों से खरीदा है.



मैंने तो बस चुन-चुन कर,

दिलो-जाँ से सजाया था.

खाली पड़े मकां में,

एक घर ही तो बसाया था.

बैठक = living room,  चटख = bright, भूल-भुलैया = labyrinth, maze, सुनहरी धारियों वाली प्यालियाँ = gold rimmed cups, धूप से सने पडदे = curtains soaked in sunlight,  जायज़ हक = legal right, दिलो-जाँ = whole-heartedly, मकां = house

आशा-निराशा

आएगा आनेवाला... 

यही सोचते सोचते गुज़र जाती है रात

कशमकश में

रस्साकशी में

के दें छलकने या रखे सम्हाल के

मोतियों को किसी और उजड़े दिन के लिए

न ही कोई आएगा.

न कोई मनाएगा.

इस झांसे का न ही रहे सुकून तो अच्छा है,

के

आएगा आनेवाला....

उद्यमेन हि सिद्ध्यन्ति कार्याणि न मनोरथैः ।

न हि सुप्तस्य सिंहस्य प्रविशन्ति मुखे मृगाः ॥

Hard work is the key to success, not just wishful thinking. Just like deers never walk into a sleeping Lion as its meal.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

धीरे धीरे रे मना, धीरे सब कुछ होय,

माली सींचे सौ घड़ा , ऋतू आए फल होय 

(Have patience, things happen only when they are meant to. A Gardner might empty 100 pails of water but the tree will bear fruit only when the right season has come.)

Wondering which one to choose....hard work or wait for the right time....or both????

One Last Time

If only there was a way to close your eyes and never open them again.

If only there was a way to breathe in and never breathe out again.

If only there was a way to think your last thought and never have any again.

If only there was a way to shed your last tear and never cry again.

If only there was a way to bid farewell and never see anyone again.

If only there was a way to tell people that you loved them, one last time.

If only there was a way to clear all misunderstandings, one last time.

If only there was a way to apologise, one last time.

If only there was a way to forgive, one last time.

If only there was a way to motivate yourself, one last time.

If only there was a way to tell your heart to beat its end, one last time.

Sadly, there's no such way.

So one lives on.

Cat Lover's paradise

For all those who love cats here is a look into a house full of cat curios!
My House :)
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=247461&id=559266122&l=70435377f8

चढ़ता पानी

उतरते पानी को देर नहीं लगती
दरारों-ढलान का साथ जो है,
वो तो चढ़ते पानी का नसीब ठहरा
हर मोड़ पे बरसों की मेहनत है.

शोरो-ग़ुल भी करता है
तो करता है उतरता पानी,
वो तो चढ़ते पानी का नसीब ठहरा
जो चुप सा चट्टानों को कलम करता है.

मशहूर है खूबसूरत कर
जब है उतरता पानी,
वो तो चढ़ते पानी का नसीब ठहरा
जो बदनाम है तबाही के लिए.

पर तुझे सलाम, ऐ चढ़ते पानी..

के वक़्त की सीढियों को
जूझता हुआ बढ़ा है,
सूखे-प्यासे कुओं में
तू बेझिझक चढ़ा है.

दरारों-ढलान = cracks & slopes, शोरो-ग़ुल = loud noise, कलम = behead, kill, जूझता = struggle, बेझिझक = uninterrupted, without fear or doubt

5 years n more :)

Everyone who has fought the battle with cancer waits eagerly for their share of 5 years to get over. The fear of recurrences and treatment looms large on their head until then. They say after 5 years they have as much a chance of recurrence as anybody else on this earth has a chance of getting it. Maybe these are plain words but they make this whole wait worth it. This November, I complete my share of this long wait. Cheers to Life!!!