TERE HONE SE MUJHE, ITNI TASALLI QUON HAI -

It is 29 th March once again.

Life has continued to flow at its own pace. It was twenty two years ago that you had joined me in this journey of life.

Jyaada kuch thaa nahin tab paas hamare. Kuch sapne the wo bhi dare dare se.

We belonged to different castes and there were any amount of hurdles in getting parents to agree, my parents ie. Caste, Dowry and the biggest being your medical problem, the prospect of never be able to become parents. All those events cloud my mind to day but life had its own plans, its own designs. We have been blessed so much by 'Him' that I really don't have a heart to desire any thing from him anymore. The biggest of them being what we had discounted at the very beginning, our child.

It all seems only yesterday.
Kal ki si baat lagti hai.

The best that I could ever express my emotions, my gratitude, was when I wrote this poem on our 'Tenth' wedding anniversary. That emotion, kept private till now, I share with all on this day, in celebration of 'Twenty Two' years of our togetherness,

" BAAD MUDDAT KE BHI TU, ITNI NAYEE SI QUON HAI,
TERE HONE SE MUJHE, ITNI TASALLI QUON HAI ,,

TU NAHIN SAB SE HASIN ITNEE BAREE DUNIYAN MEIN
MERI DUNIYAN MEIN MAGAR TUJH SAA HASIN KOI NAHIN ,
TERE HONE SE HI AABAAD HAI JEEVAN MERA
MERI JO BHI HAI TAMANNA WO TUJHI SE QUON HAI ,,

TERE HONE SE MUJHE, - - - - - -

TOONE MUJH KO JO DIYAA HAI WO BHULAAOON KAISE
PYAAR SAAGAR SAA TERAA DOOB NA JAAON KAISE ,
MAINE TUJH JAISE HI SAATHI KI TAMANNA KI THI
TUJH SE HAR LAMAHA MUHABBAT MERI BADHTI QUON HAI ,,

TERE HONE SE MUJHE, - - - - - -

MUJH SE TU JAAN HAMESHAA YE MUHABBAT RAKHNA
MERI SAANSON, MERI DHARKAN, MERE SAPNON MEIN
HAMESHAA BASNA,
MERE QHWAABON MEIN NAYE RANG TU BHARTI REHNA
MERI UMMEED, MERI AASHA, MERAA SAPNAA TU HAI ,,

TERE HONE SE MUJHE, TNI TASALLI QUON HAI -

ITNI TASALLI QUON HAI - - - - - - "

Allthough I always say,

KABHI KISI KO MUQAMMAL JAHAAN NAHIN MILTAA

But then ,

mere jeevan mein magar
kuch Muqammal hota bhi agar,

is se jyaadaa kyaa hotaa.

And lest I forget to say once again, -- I love you Lil,
I love you

Boond jo ban gayi Moti, - - - - - - -

To day, I am reminded of a poem, I read as a child. It was actually in our Hindi text book. The trigger is the anxiety, the uncertainty, lingering on in the young minds struggling to chart out a worthwhile course for them selves. Some thing that I share on daily basis being the father of one. The poem goes like this,

J/UON NIKAL KAR BAADALON KI GOD SE

THI ABHI EK BOOND KUCH AAGE BARHI

SOCHNE PHIR PHIR YAHI MAN MAIN LAGI

AAH KYON GHAR CHOR KAR MEIN YUN CHALI

DAIV MERE BHAGYA MAIN HAI KYA BADA

MEIN BACHUNGI YA MILOONGI DHOOL MAIN

YA JALOONGI GIR ANGARE PAR KISI

CHU PAROONGI YA KAMAL KE PHOOL MAIN

BEH GAI US KAAL IK AISI HAWA

WEH SAMUNDAR OR AAYI ANMANI

EK SUNDAR SEEP KAA MUNH THA KHULA

WO USI MAIN JAA PARI MOTI BANI

LOG YUNHI HAI JHIJHAKTE SOCHTE

JAB KI UNKO CHORNA PARTA HAI GHAR

KINTU GHAR KO CHOORNA AKSAR UNHAIN

BOOND LAU KUCH AUR HI DETA HAI KAR

When I go back to my struggling days it was the same anxiety, the same uncertainty and the hurry to get going. Having finally found my ground and having been walking on it for a good part of my life now, is there a sense of fulfillment, any sense of achievement, I am forced to at times think. Yes to the extent of having fulfilled my duties as a son, a husband or a father there is no regret. But was that all to my existence? There was one more relation that needed to be done justice to, that with the 'Self'. And in doing justice to others, have I done injustice to self. And if the answer is 'No' than, has it been worth it. Questions which have no easy answers.

Boond 'Moti' to ban Gayi par us 'Moti' kaa kya ho paaya. Kya us ko apna mukaam mil saka ?

For the drop of water which had set out with an uncertain future, turning into a 'Pearl' may have been a very big achievement. But once it turned into one, does it not fill her with even greater anxiety. The drop of water could have accepted the ignominy of falling in dust or evaporating in fire, the same however is not easy to take for a 'Pearl' which is born to be adored and loved. It is the aspiration of every 'Pearl' to finally be adorned in a worthwhile piece of jewellery. It can not accept being ignored.

Hence every step one climbs on the ladder of success one makes himself even more vulnerable to anxieties., the fear of becoming irrelevant some day. To quote SRK's biggest fear, 'What if I get up one day and find that no one recognizes me or runs for autograph'. Big deal, a normal human being would say, but very real fear for a man at the very pinnacle of success.

The success there for needs to be measured in terms of duties fulfilled selflessly and personal dreams realized without compromising on convictions and not if people around, or how many have taken notice. To be able to remain relevant to the out side world, one has to remain relevant to inner self and to the loved ones.

I am no SRK. My fear is more basic and simple.

What if I do not recognize my own self when I look into the mirror one morning?

What if the whole world runs after me, but my near and dear ones stop acknowledging me.

Will this price be justified to pay for any amount of success. ---- Naa hhhhh - - - - - - -

Rahe mere sapne to mere apnon ke sapne bhi to mere hi hain,

Kya karein, kitni bhi koshish kar lein

KABHI KISI KO MUQAMMAL JAHAAN NAHIN MILTA

dreams

Your dreams, my dreams - - -

It is interesting,
this communication with the new generation,
I find myself reacting to it, commenting upon it more these days. It is interesting. How the situations are contemporary but the same old fears are playing up. How the insecurities are the same even the context is the same most of the times, but the setting is new, the stage and the props are latest and the players are young.
When I was growing up, as one of three children of my father,- a teacher,- I had this constant urge to make some thing out of my life. My concerns were simple. I must start earning as soon as possible. There were after all, two more in line. I eventually got my first salary at age twenty four. I used to think of being relevant, important and the first among equals in my circle, professional and personal.
It used to be a simple world those days, comparatively. A government job , a decent salary was the only dream of parents for their children.
All though I had my own.
I did try to suggest to my father of becoming an artist ; to join art school, to pursue fine arts. He asked me how would I earn my daily bread and I didn't have the heart to tell him that bread will have to wait, that I would rather pursue my dream, and that, you, - my father,- may have to foot the bill, till then.
His concern was not lost on me.
There were after all two more in line, growing up fast ; presenting the same dilemma to a father with modest means. I didn't encourage the artist in me. I put my dream to sleep. I went for the 'Bread' instead, as soon as I could.
It is all so long back in life, yet it seems only yesterday.
I see the same fears, the same dilemma playing up in same measure in the present generation. In fact more forcefully. And even greater urge to dream and go after it. Jumping with joy one day, being morose the other day. Feeling important one day and neglected the other day.
One can identify with the insecurities.
It is after all a world of instant noodles, five minutes fame and one day celebrities. Reality TV has encroached every day life. Life is tough. Every day struggle to remain relevant is almost a survival issue. One who is not relevant is not in the reckoning, one who is not in reckoning may well be dead. Hence the unnecessary controversies, the real life situations played out in public, the tears, the betrayals even death, whether some one else's or one's own ( and I refrain from taking names because I don't want to be judgmental ) is a means to remain relevant. These are cruel times. These are difficult times. The underlying fears, the concerns are same, the magnitudes have multiplied many fold, the implications are more severe, in the minds of this restless generation.

Yet some thing is different

at least in our context,

To you my dear, who brings me to these questions time and again, I have this to say

I put the artist in me to sleep and went for 'Bread', not because my dreams were unreal or I had any less confidence in them. I too was young and I too needed to be relevant. Only the 'Bread' at that point in time took precedence. And no hard feelings ' Papa Ji'.
You don't have to suffer such dilemma, for this old man knows the worth of 'Dreams' and the pain of unfulfilled ones. And also the fact that 'Dreams' must precede every thing in a young man's life.

You will get what I didn't. A chance to go after your dreams.

As regards me ,

I draw solace in the fact,

KABHI KISI KO MUQAMMAL JAHAAN NAHIN MILTA

My home my plnet - - -

My home my planet - - - - -

The earth will finish in --- years
The life will come to an end by - - - -
Dooms day is here,

we go on ,

very concerned, with the state of affairs on our planet,
We are destroying it fast,
We are using up every thing,
In five hundred years we would have used up all natural resources,
And will need another Earth to sustain us,

But the other Earth is not there !!!!!!!

The earth doesn't have much time left. ------- We go on,

Correct facts -- Arrogant analysis,
Nothing new, though,
We the humans are an arrogant species any way,
Billions of years ago a planet developed around our son ,
one of many,
We know it as 'Earth' today,
The Earth , than existed, as a ball of fire,
without the humans offcourse,
it did exist, however,

The ball of fire cooled, and miracle of life happened,
The life form has existed for billions of years,
Many things have happened during this period,
Millions of species have come to live and vanished,
Earth has existed as home for all these species,
And did not finish,
when any of these species became extinct,
Which count in millions,

We are, but one of millions of species which have come and gone
We too will be gone
But the Earth will not finish with us,

We harbor such misplaced notion of our importance as a species,
Let us consider this,
The most famous species, OK , after 'Homo Sepians'
if our arrogance insists,

the Dinosaurs

lived for three billions or so years,
And were gone one day,
Just like that,
Did mother nature care ?
It got busy with the process of creation once again,
and the 'Humans' came to existence,

The Earth survived

We would also be gone one day,

But the Earth will survive,
Without the humans, may be,
but it will,
Some other species will come to dominate the life cycle, on our planet,
May be more intelligent and more sensible,
mother nature will move on.
We are, but one, of millions of species which have come and gone
before us,
We are not special even if our arrogance makes us think so,
Other than may be in one way,

No other species has expedited and ensured, its own extinction,
We will ,-- most certainly,
And take away with us many more species,

we are special -- most intelligent,
after all.
But however special, or great we may be,
We still, will not be able to do complete damage,
One life form, or the other, will survive,
Deep down somewhere, in the deep seas, or in the gorges

The earth will recoup its resources ,
destroyed by us humans,
in few million or billion years,
And the life will bloom.

And even when life is gone,
The earth will still be there
Frozen in time, or
as a ball of fire may be

But it will be there,

Our Earth,
is only changing form,
It is only shifting priorities
Dinosaurs yesterday- humans today - who knows what tomorrow

Earth is not dying in a hurry, - we are
We the humans may have understood this truth
and hence, will worry about it always in future, but
We the humans,
will not be able to help it – never
Our knowledge tells us.
Scared, we are destined to be, - in our knowledge
Other species don't under stand this
Blessed they are in their ignorance

Hamaare pas Gyan jyadaa hai, is liye dar bhi jyadaa hai
Unko dar nahin hai, kyounki Gyan hi nahin hai

Like I always say, -

KABHI KISI KO MUQAMMAL JAHAAN NAHIN MILTA

Apna ghar phir apna ghar hai . . . . .

Read some thing yesterday, from my son
what comes to mind goes some thing as under

- Ghar kaa khaana, ghar ki batein,
- Ghar ke din aur ghar ki raatein

- Ghar ki chaadar, ghar ke parde,
Ghar hum sab ka, hum sab ghar ke - I

- Ghar main sab kuch, sab ka hota,
Tera mera, koi na kehta - II

- Ghar ki table , ghar ki kursi,
pyaar ki baarish har dum barsi - I

- Ghar ka paani, sabse meetha,
jeevan ko mein, pura jeeta - II

- Ghar main maa hai, ghar main papa,
Ghar se mera dil ka naata - I

- Daadi dada mujh ko takte,
Mere sang jee bhar ke hanste - II

- Ghar se jeevan bhar kaa naata,
Ghar main hi mein khud ko paata - I

- Ghar se door chalaa to jaaon,
Ghar se dur nahin reh paataa - II

- Ghar ki kuch manmauj hawa hai,
Sardi main 'aalav' jala hai - I

-Uske chaaron or sabhi hain,
Khoob maze ki behas chiri hai - II

- Ghar ki baatein khatm na hongi,
Dunia ghar si kabhi na hogi - I

-Phir bhi jaana to hoga hi,
Khud ko paana to hoga hai - II

- Mujh ko bhi to kuch karma hai,
Apne sapnon ko chakna hai - I

- Jinse maine sab kuch seekha,
Un sab ke jaisa banna hai - II

- Maa main tere paas sada hoon,
Tere dil main hi rehta hoon - I

-Papa tum bhi garv karoge'
Aakhir ghar kaa hi beta hoon - II

- Ghar se main jaata to hoon par,
Ghar ko dil main le jaata hoon - I

-Ghar se chaahe dur rahoon par,
Ghar ko door nahin paata hoon - II

Apna ghar phir apna ghar hai

Waiting for her - - - -

Women's day, it is
and some  friends are gloating,
they have , Daughters, you see,
Now what is it about the daughter's that turns the fathers 'moist eyed'
I don't have one but,
I can identify with the emotion,
My wife having given birth to our only happy, handsome and smiling son,
actually held my hand and wept with guilt,
She was semiconscious after her 'Cesarean' and when told about the son,
complained,
You are not happy, -----   I didn't give you a daughter,
She had her reasons,
all through her pregnancy we had
spoken about a daughter only,
we had hundreds of names of daughters , ---   not one for a son,
'Toolika'  she were to be,  'HAMARI NANHI PARI'
and then 'HE'  arrived,
happy, smiling , eyes wide open , more than ten pounds and
that priceless, toothless smile,

one look at him and  I forgot the momentary disappointment,
actually ,  not before my brother in law , my friend    ---   almost kicked me,
how dare you associate 'sex' to that beautiful innocent face, he said,
amused with the emotional drama unfolding in front of him,
how  dare we, yes how dare we,
we haven't,  --    we have never,  ---    since than,

Frankly I wonder how any one can think about them as 'Son or 'Daughter'
our flesh and blood ,
our children,

and what about  'Toolika', did we forget her,
no way,
she is there some where, and some time in future,
she will make a grand entry in to our lives, and that of our 'son' 
'HAMARI NANHI PARI' 
 Hamari 'TOOLIKA'
ab  bari ho gayi hogi

in the mean time you gloating fathers of daughters,
prepare to give them away , the daughters,
(and my hats off to you for having the heart to be able to do so,)

while we wait to welcome her, our  Nanhi Pari,

you see , friends, you  bloating fathers of daughters,
 
you got to have them than
We will have them now,
and Yes, ( to rub it in ), we will not have to give them away,

kaha hai na,

KABHI KISI KO MUQAMMAL JAHAAN NAHIN MILTA
 
























selected and finalised names of daugters

Baat karni mujhe mushkil kabhi - - - - - -

I have been told that first five are difficult,
there after it gets easy,
this 'Blogging' thing.
This is the Fifth one,
and I am certain that after this ,
thoughts will come like clouds in the monsoons,
and the words will start pouring like drops of rain,

Hell, this fifth one ,
I must get it out of my way as fast as I can,

'BAAT KARNI MUJHE MUSHKIL KABHI AISI TO NA THI',

It is fun to try out new things, and this technology has its advantages,
as long as this platform is not used to cause pain,
or hurt some one,
as long as there is no hidden agenda,
as long as it is plain expression of random thoughts, for no particular reason,
This 'Exhibitionism' is fun,
I am beginning to have fun too,

one has felt the power and pleasure of expressing earlier too,
in various forms,
Ghazals some times, unstructured poetry ,
or just plain text,
for whatever they may have been worth,
but those have remained confined to self and a few, close to heart,
these thoughts however are in public domain ,
this is fun

'JAISI AB HAI MERI MEHFIL KABHI AISI TO NA THI '

There !!!!!!!!
the fifth one is out of the way,
I am already beginning to feel the thoughts jostling for space in my mind,
I must be on the verge of some great self discovery,
I am rest less, I am anxious,

LE GAYA LOOT KE KAUN AAJ TERA SABRO KARAR,
BEKARARI TUJHE AI DIL KABHI AISI TO NA THI'

to be honest though,
one still longs for the feel of paper and pen in hand,
those pages written long ago have turned yellow,
some are torn and folded,
those are precious moments of life preserved on paper,
there is more to a thought than the word alone,
the medium too plays its part in evoking nostalgia,
When one opens the old diary, and a page in it,
the handwriting, the cuttings and the corrections,
a dried flower preserved some where,
a familiar fragrance,
left behind by some one close,
some one intimate,
Can that ever be replaced ?????

I have taken to the new technology,
but I can never distance my self from my nostalgic self,

chalo theek hai

KABHI KISI KO MUQAMMAL JAHAAN NAHIN MILTA

Friends in the Olive Greens, - - - - - -

A few things have happened in last few days,
a long lost 'course mate' visited me , driven by despair,
a real logjam he is in,
and no way to go - accept the courts,
in spite of all the assurances and hope he had placed on this visit,
he couldn't really get what he had hoped for,
he has reasons to feel bad,
what he is being denied of,
has been given to many before him,
continues to be given to many , even now ,
and will continue to be given to many more in future.
So what is his fault,
Wrong timing, and plain bad luck.
And the manner in which the law takes its course,
life is tough and unreasonably so, for some,
what he stands to loose is a few 'Laks' of hard earned money,
and more importantly,
the faith in the system.
 Is there fair play, NO,
does the same rule apply to all in the same way, NO,

take heart friend,
this too shall pass

Another of my friend is nearing the end of a service privilege,  the 'Study leave'
'Sukh bhare din beete re bhaiya,
ab dukh aayo re,'
or so he feels
now the same prospect stares him
uncertainty of postings,
unannounced travels
and same old routine
and sans family this time, to fall back to , at the end of the day,
I am taking perverse pleasure in all this,
I have been in this state for quite some time now,
so welcome to  the party Bro
ha, ha, ha ,,,,,,,

to you too dear,
this too shall pass,

'LIFE' in general and  in the Army in particular as they say 'is a big leveler'
you win some, you loose some
and if I have not said this before, --------
remember,
 
both of 'You'

KABHI KISI KO MUQAMMAL JAHAAN NAHIN MILTA,



 

You will do well - - - -

He was lying there,
encased in a glass, refrigerated box,
air conditioned accommodation,  he could never afford in his life,
we were at Naukuchiatal,  preparing to go to Haldwani,
for shopping,
we had to change our programme and rush to NOIDA instead,
knowing completely well that he will not be there,
yet expecting him to be there at the door,
thrilled to see his beloved daughter and me, at the prospect of  a session of a few 'Large drinks' in the evening.
he would have made 'Saag Meat'
FAUZI DAAMAAD  DAARU  LAYA  HAI,
to ho jaaye, !!!!!!!
Ho jaaye
I miss you,
We miss you a lot Uncle,
When we made our home , We had a desire that you could come and spend some happy days with us, your daughter, your grandson and me,
DAARU and Saag Meat ??
just when we were planning,
you had to leave in a hurry,
'He' up there has another role cut out for you,
you will do well, I know
you will do well
we would in the mean time lead our lives,
happily,
just the way you dreamt for your daughter,
only
when I come on leave ,
there will be DAARU
but no one to share it with
and no ,SAAG MEAT,
kehte hain na
 
KABHI KISI KO MUQAMMAL JAHAAN NAHIN MILTA

Our Nest - - - - -

I am in the Army
FAUJ JAHAAN LE JAATI HAI , CHALAA JAATA HOON,
during the nomadic life
we came to a place,
a place called Naukuchiatal,
more about Naukuchiatal some other time,
but we liked it and made a house , a small house on the shore of the beautiful lake,
We are three in the family and with love and hope in our heart we created small but enough accomodation for our small family, for present,
and the future,
when the son gets married and has his family, and we have grand children and ----- the dream went on,
Last CHUTTI ( leave ) we were siting in our veranda,
the same pair of beautiful birds appeared which has been coming for last so many years
'Money bird' the locals call it, and the belief is that the house that it makes its nest in; prospers.
It has been coming for many years,
and if prospering means steady growth of contentment and happiness,
we have been blessed by this little bird,
During the past years
once they left,
the mud nest used to be removed by us,
last year my wife didn't,
she after all stays there permanently and was a witness to the hard work put in by the fragile pair,
mouth full by mouth full, they would bring mud from the lake near by and lovingly stick it to the growing home of theirs,
once completed they would bring up the next generation,
and one day the whole family would fly off, deserting the lovingly built home.
We kept it last year,
my wife said , moved by the homemaker, the mother in her,
why should they do the hard work .
This time when they come they will not have to work so hard ,
they would have a home ready to welcome them, constructed by the generation before them.
they would happily bring up the next generation,
or so she thought, and I agreed, (I in any case didn't have an option,)
the pair came , saw the place , saw the nest and left,
they didn't take the accommodation kept lovingly intact for them
they started building there own new home,
Amazing as it may sound, a house built by the previous generation, was not acceptable to them,
my wife is sad,
the nest is still there, and will continue to be there till it falls of by it self,
she will not remove it, and I don't have the authority, nor the guts, actually not the heart even,
but she is sad all right,
and I am contemplating.
My grand father did not stay in the house that his father built in Aligarh,
My father did not stay in the house made by my grandfather in Saharanpur,
I have chosen not to stay in the house made by my father at Gaziabad,
My son
will you at least come once in a while to stay in your room,
so lovingly made for you,
and where your mother spends lot of time every day,
she relives the days when you used to be messing it up without fail
and she used to be scolding you without any anger,
and where I will soon be painting the 'Beatels' poster that you and I both have liked,
Or will you,
my son,
fly away and make your own nest some where else,
Don't feel compelled to cater to our emotions, we all after all made our own choices,
you would be entitled to yours,
as regards us,
your mother will find her peace in that room ,
and I will keep painting it to your liking,
even when you are conquering your own peaks,
meanwhile, -----
the birds are bringing in mud,
mouthful by mouthful
and we are watching, knowing well,
this home will be deserted next season,

KABHI KISI KO MUQAMMAL JAHAAN NAHIN MILTA

JAISI JIS KI CHAAKRI .- - - - - -.

I was watching some old family pictures to day, and came across some which we had taken when we visited the TajMahal.
The ,Tomb, is beautiful and is a classic example, of how love CAN manifests itself and how a building can actually become a synonym for 'Love'
Yet it was almost broken down by the 'Britishers' and sold in pieces for Marble.
For them after all it was slabs of expansive marble wasted in a building that can not harbour any one.
This marble could have been used for making VIP bathrooms after all.
How love can create some thing so beautiful and lack of it can actually think of demolishing some thing so beautiful.
And there also was a British lady who was prepared to die if her husband could create some thing like this in her memory,
There are times when heart desires some thing and the mind negates it.
The mind after all is the one which takes pride in the fact that it can think ,---  think and than come to conclusions.
The heart gets berated because it is stated to be impulsive and rash. But than is it true that all decisions made by the mind are always right and by the heart always wrong.
The Tajmahal, why did it come to existance.
 Was it the mind or the heart which may have driven ShahJahan to construct the building which caters to  the silent desires of  'love' residing in every heart.
What would have been the Mind's  take on this.
I am sure it would have rejected it outright. Why afetr all spend so much on a structure which would be nothing but the advertisment of love of only of rich and mighty.
There after all is a view existing ,
 EK SHEHENSHAH NA DAULAT KA SAHARA LEKAR , HUM GARIBON KI MUHABBAT KA URAYA HAI MAJAAK. 
Yet the Taj stands in all its glory.
Evoking love, desire and prayer in every heart that harbours love,
For the worldlywise, it stands as a perfect money spinning machine if  that is the sole criteria to justify some thing.
For the artist in the heart it stand s tall as perfect example of Mugal architecture.
And above all it stands as representation of the India that was and the India that can be.
To every one his own,
Jaisi jiski chaakri vaise uske daam - - - - - -
KABHI KISI KO MUQUAMMAL JAHAAN NAHIN MILTA