Monday, June 29, 2009

UP wala thumka lagao...

Someone is getting married in your family? Are you going to attend or have you attended a marriage function soon? I can’t say about other places but the places where I have been, (UP, Bombay, Calcutta), marriages do not seem be culminated well without the craziness at Baaraats. Lavish functions, grand arrangements and just before the final steps, some steps to make the waiting as the longest one. The dancing steps of your near-dear-anyone-everyone.

It’s an obsession to look craziest. It’s energy to perform endlessly. It’s a craze to sweat the most. Or, it’s a mockery for another one being staged to lifelong imprisonment. Whatever it is, it’s a fun to watch, if you are not participating and it’s a platform to get lost completely if you are all geared up.

Just before the onset of Baaraat, all the participants spend hours to look the greatest for the occasion. The preparation for those hours starts months back. Make up, dress up, line up and there the band comes. First few minutes, it’s all band and only the band. Everyone is saving their best dresses; they try to complain for the loudness of the band as well. No one joins and it seems that this time the Baaraat would not turn up as ‘Baaraat’. And then someone, it could be anyone, becomes the leader. He takes the initiative with a few latke-jhatke. He or she ends with the shortest performance. Now the invitation is to all. Join boss!!

It starts with one type of step; latka-jhatka and you have to keep repeating the same latka-jhatka. You change your position; bend a bit, result is still the same step. Be straighten up, same step. Turn, swirl, and take rounds, same step. If you see from a distance you can feel as if some serious emergency has happened in the crowd. Everyone is shaking. A few times it gives a feeling of mild earthquake. The glittering of lights, the loudness of drums, the thud of thumping feet, so many hands upraised, a few drops of sweat passing from one person to other person and sudden shrieks of excitement. All this sums up the drama at the road. More drama can be seen up there at the roof tops. Everyone is out to see the procession going. The drama at the road is completely unaware of their scrutiny by the drama queens at the rooftops. Girls are checking handsome boys, the dancing stars. Boys are again passing their stares to whosoever they can find in the crowd. They don’t bother whom to look, they look at every female. The ladies keep their eyes on jewellery, on sarees and most importantly on Mr Dulha. ‘Who is getting married’ is the big question among them, though they don’t bother to get the answer.

After some time the Baraat is divided into two parts automatically. Boys’ gang is the wild one. They are sometimes sensuous, sometimes too fast and sometimes slow thumkas to imitate girls. Girls’ gang seems to be more mature as they try to follow some style of dancing. They try to follow Rajasthani, Marwari, more group efforts, more organized circles but the end is same. Similar thumkas work everywhere. The equation of the two gangs keep changing and a few members keep switching, resulting cohesion and more dancing-talk among them.

For a few songs you might see a few different steps. The favorite Nagin song is the key appetizer for the main dancers of the gangs. One of the guys sit down at the road, takes out his handkerchief placed specially for the song, waves it like a ‘been’ and tries to tame a snake-cum-human-another fellow obsessive Baarat-wala-thumka specialist partner.

Like so many Indian traditions, we have traditions of typical Baarat songs. 'Aaj mere yaad ki shaadi hai': it’s not surely the marriage of everyone's friend, still the most popular song. 'Ye desh hai veer jawanon ka': i don’t have any clue why they play such a patriotic song for such an auspicious super emotionally excited event of one’s lifetime, but tradition is tradition. I wonder what songs they played in Baarats when these songs were not there, who thought to play these songs for the first time and when such songs became a part of traditions across places. Does anyone know?

The last leg of the Baaraat is the most crucial one. The speed of the procession suddenly drops down to zero just before the main entrance. Everyone gather to show off that this is the time we have to do something. We have to break the rules and show them that we are the ones. Now the two gangs of the Baaraat become one and ‘the rivals for the day’ becomes the gang of girls’ side.

Without caring for the traffic jams, the troubles to the people on roads, the Baaraat ends here with all the paths traveled whatsoever short it was. At the end of it the red kurtas become the maroon ones. The darker shades of clothes get some salty irregular shapes of maps of different countries. The combination of deodorant, sweat, panting and bad breathe of some 100 odd people make it a nauseating environment.

Surely, all this is worth it to the ‘Boy turning Man’, ‘Girl turning Lady’ occasion.

But, I feel,

“Baarats and Baarats everywhere,
Not a single one with a difference…”

Monday, June 15, 2009


Though there are 4 topics still in pipeline, which includes one poetry as well, this one popped out from somewhere. I scribbled and thought to put. Have a look, here it goes..

जीवन की आपाधापी में, सपनों को छवि तो दे देते
क्या करना था, क्या करते हैं, इतना ही तुम बस कह लेते

निकले थे, सफ़र सुहाना था
था अपने साथ ज़माना था
बाधाओं के सुर में हरदम,
लगता हर गीत तराना था

अब आज अभी, इस वेला में, तुम लेखा जोखा कर लेते
क्या करना था, क्या करते हैं, इतना ही तुम बस कह लेते

जाने-अनजाने लोगों का,
जब साथ मिला तो डगर मिली
सोचा तो पहुँचे मंज़िल पर,
जब आँख उठी तो नज़र खुली

कब कहाँ गया, कुछ कहाँ मिला, अपनों से मेला कर लेते
क्या करना था, क्या करते हैं, इतना ही तुम बस कह लेते

जब आये अंत सफ़र तो बस,
आँखों से आँसू ना छलकें
दे जायें जग को ऐसा कुछ,
ढूंढें तुमको हरपल पलकें

वह गया डगर, पग पड़े जिधर, चिन्हों को गहरा कर देते
क्या करना था, क्या करते हैं, इतना ही तुम बस कह लेते

Friday, June 12, 2009

बस यूँ ही ...

Its an old poem written by me.. its my first attempt to publish something in Hindi.. :-)

कभी रात के 'सन्नाटे' में 'गूंजती' 'रोशनी'
तो कभी 'दिन' के 'उजाले' में 'सुनसान' वो 'महफ़िल'
लगता है सब अजीब, पर है सब वही
वही तो है, और सोचें तो है भी सही
मन को लगता है कि रोशनी में शोर है
पानी में स्वर्ग है, और सूरज निकलते ही भोर है
पर क्या ये सही है, नहीं ये भी नहीं
'सही' भी 'सही' नहीं, 'नहीं' भी 'नहीं' नहीं
'नहीं' तभी 'नहीं' है, जब 'सही' सही है
पर बिना 'गलत' के 'सही' का अस्तित्व भी सही 'नहीं' है
'हाँ' के बिना 'नहीं' भी 'नहीं' 'नहीं' है
तो ये सोचना कि कया 'सही' है
और क्या 'सही' 'नहीं' है
उतना ही 'सही' नहीं है जितना कि
सोचना कि 'नहीं' ही 'सही' है

परिभाषायें तो बड़ी हैं, पर क्या
हर परिभाषा का तात्पर्य वही है
जो शब्द की है व्याख्या
या उस शब्द से भी परे है
उस शब्द कि मर्यादा और आख्या
चलिये यूँ ही एक शब्द लेते हैं
और अपने प्रश्नों का समाधान
अभी कर लेते हैं

क्या होता है 'प्यार'
हम सुनते हैं जिसे
रोज़ाना, बार-बार, लगातार
शायद तीन घंटे की फिल्म में
हज़ार से भी ज्यादा बार

'शब्द' की परिभाषा से भी परे
है क्या 'प्यार'
क्या दे सकते हैं परिभाषा
इस छोटे से शब्द की
क्या जानना ही 'प्यार' है
या 'जानने' की इच्छा है ये
या फिर ना जान कर भी सोचना
कि यही है प्यार
या फिर 'जान' कर भी पसंद
कहलाता है सही अर्थों में 'प्यार'

क्या आँखों में देखना है 'प्यार'
या फिर आँखें ही ना देखना
देखना उस क्षितिज के पार
साथ-साथ, लगातार है 'प्यार'
किसी को देखना, छूना
ही नहीं संवेदना का व्यवहार
प्यार नहीं लाचार, इन
इंद्रियों से दबा असहाय, बेकार
'प्यार' तो है इंद्रियों से परे
हाँ, ऊपर बहुत ऊपर
मानव को भगवान का साथ
है प्यार
ईश्वर को अपने बच्चे को
दिया गया उपहार

समझना, जानना, जान कर समझना
जानना समझ-समझ कर
नहीं है 'प्यार' किसी संवेदना में
किसी मानव के आकार में
उसके अंदाज़ में, उसके स्पर्श में
या फिर उसकी महक या आवाज़ में
'प्यार' है खुद में
रहता है वहीं, आता है वहीं से
पर उसे जानना, समझना और
करना है किसी का मोहताज़

एक अवलम्बन है व्यक्ति
लगाने को आसक्ति
पर सच्चाई है, आप स्वयं
आपका वज़ूद, आपका वयं
बस यही है 'प्यार'
पर शब्दों में बांधना
नहीं है 'प्यार'
ये तो एक शुरुआत है
'प्यार' से करने की 'प्यार'।।।

Saturday, June 06, 2009

... I miss!!!

The streets and the paths…
The trees and the flowers…
I miss all those when I am not there…

…when caught on the day one,
Not getting the answers,
I got hold my nerves,
To scribble what I thought…
The board and the chalk…
The class and the bench…
I miss all those when I am not there…

…when to feel the amazement,
In the teachings of the Profs,
I got overwhelmed,
To listen all they talk…
The papers and the marks…
The knowledge and the Profs…
I miss all those when I am not there…

…when meeting the roommates,
My heart did feel ‘awe’,
I ran into excitement,
To enjoy close and far…
The room and the wing…
The hostel and the quad…
I miss all those when I am not there…

…when turned the light on,
And the stage was set,
I couldn’t close my mouth,
To see the beauty of it all…
The shows and the fests…
The SAC and the Audi…
I miss all those when I am not there…

…when asked by THE people,
Where do you see yourself,
I pumped my reply out,
To know the clarity of the future…
The talking and the grooming…
The fun and the work…
I miss all those when I am not there…

…now when I sit my feet crossed,
…my hands on my lap,
…I see everything,
…turning on, turning off,
…the long run to reach,
…the perfect paths to travel,
…every sound of it is silent,
…every bit of it is over,
…the one thing never goes
…&, grows every time,
…yes.. I miss all that,

Yes.. I miss all those…