Skip to main content

A Season of Mixed Colors

The are certain seasons of particularly cheerful and colorful disposition and then, there are some gloomy and bleak ones, apart from some which are terribly nostalgia inducing. Each season is marked by its own hue and color, and these colors are what we in our minds paint them with. The promise of the splendor of the Sun and birds chirping will hold good only in the event when we decide to look at the sunlight leisurely lying on our terrace, across the flowers with fondness and grant some attentiveness to the birds chirping some attention. And we have no way of knowing if we will be able to do it TOMORROW. 
The world changes so quickly that we have absolutely no way of knowing how we are going to respond to it in a moment from NOW. Just a moment back you could be feeling all powerful, and sudden turn of events could turn you back in to Human, all too human and alas, too human.


 By the time the last week was limping towards its closure, I got my daughter school admission formalities concluded. All thoughts were on the way the lovely, little one was all set to slip in to the world with sea of people, offering no hearing and no control. From the fond and loving glare of few who were to never judge her, she will be getting into a world where, each of her step will be judged. Though I do hope that she might remain blissfully unaware, and pass through the life as such, without even noticing the attempts of the world to measure her up, I know, it will take an extreme amount of intelligence or devastating amount of foolishness on her part to be able to do so. She will be getting into a world which will stretch her away from me, till the time when she pulls out completely. That, my friends tell me, is inevitable and that looking at the universe around me is the only desirable option. The portion of a star which is able to pull away from it as it comes out of it, becomes a planet and life blooms on it, the portion which even after taking birth, fails to pull away and maintain a healthy distance, will have no other option but to fall back into it with a black hole as its future. She had been to the school with me for admission and to my surprise, she loved it. So deep is our desire to know people and discover friendships, that we are ready to take the risk of the unknown for it. From next Monday, she will be entering into the world which will judge her more and love her less. What is surprising that as a kind of silent surprise or coup in the ranks, we parents join the larger world around, clapping our kids to the wining race line, very so often. We imbibe a sense and desire of winning that is somewhere takes away all the charm of living as a flower child unbound by the conventional, which I would want Nonu to be. I want to be as unchanged, un-judging as loving tomorrow, as I am today for her. I hope to be so as proof of living possibility of such an impossible idea. A baby can be afford to be obnoxious, cumbersome and inattentive and still draw our love. I hope to always remember that to me, she will always be that baby and that I will never side with the world against. And I want to be around for her to have me as her north star that will never change its place and be her guiding sign in a rapidly changing world. This brings to my mind the mixed colors this moment has for me.It is  a season filled with hope of great things to come and fear of not being able to see some of them.
It changes so swiftly, the mood and tenor of writing. I till day before yesterday wanted to write a response to  recently written blog "An Open Letter to a Delhi Boy" which made its way to the national daily simply on the account of acerbic, hateful wit that it carried. But between today and tomorrow, a chill which moved down my spine, does not want me to write any of it. All I want to write at the moment is something to profess my love for my daughter and about the yearning for a friend who can touch the paper soaked with tears on which I write, in the knowledge, that I am so certain today of the uncertainty of my own like that my feet tremble. It is my own desire to be noticed, to be cared for and the fear of ending unloved that makes the task so very difficult and confusing as I am not able to detect my mood at this very moment when I write this. Will you know without me going through the agony of telling you what I am feeling, simply because you are my friend, and will you, hold my hand and comfort me without even trying to know, simply because you are my friend. It is very bad to live long enough to be able to understand the fatalities of your desires, I wish, I knew so little, that I could hope that my desire will come true.
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

कांग्रेस संत समागम - Congress Sant Samagam

आज रात्रि जब प्रात:काल डिम्पल बाबा जागे, उनका हृदय नई ऊर्जा से प्रकाशमान था। कल ही काँग्रेस कार्यकारिणी ने उनकी तुलना किसी अचार से की थी और ध्वनिमत से सनातन धर्म का रक्षक बताया था। डिम्पल बाबा के बताया गया था कि अचार बनने के बाद हिंदू धर्म ध्वजा की रक्षा का दायित्व उन पर बैठता है। बाबा को खुद को पिकल कहा जाना पसंद तो नहीं आया था और वह जानना चाहते को अति उत्सुक थे कि ये हिंदू पिकल का इतना सम्मान क्यों करते हैं। हालाँकि डिम्पल बाबा के उत्साह का सबसे बड़ा कारण यह था कि ब्रह्मऋषि डिम्पल घोषित होने का बाद वह सामाजिक मर्यादाओं से इतर हो गए थे, और बक़ौल बाल ऋषि पूनावाला उन्हें भाँग गाँजा की निर्बाध व्यवस्था का अधिकार था। बालऋषि के अनुसार- राहुल जी इज जस्ट लाईक दैट डूड फ्राम माऊँटेन- शिव। सोच कर ही महर्षि डिम्पल के शरीर मे फुरेरियाँ उठी। नानी ने जब पवित्र वेटिकन के जल से ब्लेसित किया था तब उन्हें कहाँ भान होगा कि एक दिन उनका पौत्र हिंदू धर्म की दिशा तय करेगा। 
बहरहाल नव-नियुक्त ब्रह्मऋषि डिम्पल बाबा ने, घड़ी को देखा। बारह बज गए थे और प्रात: सूर्य वंदना का समय था। रोलेक्स राजर्षि को भी अब पहुँच…

लँगड का एमाराई

(Hindi Satire, inspired by immortal writing of late  Shri Shrilal Shukl and his legendary Novel- Rag Darbari)


लंगडवा एम आर आई करवाने का सोच रहा था। फिर सोचा पता नहीं मशीन कहाँ कहाँ से जुड़ी होगी।

खन्ना मास्टर लंगडवा के उहापोह को बड़े ध्यान से देख रहे थे। ग़रीब का कष्ट अमीर को सदा ही ध्यानाकर्षक लगता है। उसी में उसकी आत्मा का उद्धार और राजनीति का चमत्कार छुपा होता है। खन्ना मास्टर जवान और जोशीले थे। चमकीली वास्केट पहनते थे, और गंजहा की जगह ख़ुद को गंजावाला कहलाना पसंद करते थे।

गंजावाला अपना चश्मा लहराते बालों में धकेल कर, मनुहार के लहजे में बोले - “जाओ हो, काहे घबराते हो? कब तक वैद जी के पीछे घूमते रहेगे? क़स्बा क्लीनिक जा कर एमाराई करा लो।”

“हमको थोड़ा डर लग रहा है।”

लंगडवा गंजावाला के उत्साह से भयभीत हो गया। अमीर आदमी ग़रीब के सुख में अचानक रुचि लेने लगे तो अक्सर ग़रीब के लिए भय और भ्रम का कारण होता है। एक राजकुमार पहले उत्साहित हुए थे तो जवाँ मर्द कंबल और ट्राजिस्टर प्राप्त कर के लौटे थे। उसके बाद उनके घर कभी किलकारियाँ नही सुनाई पड़ी , बस मुफ़्त के रेडियो में बिनाका गीत माला सुनाई पड़ती…

Women in Vedas - The Fake Story of Sati Pratha

Biggest problem which Hinduism faces when it is being evaluated through the western prism of Abrahamic faith . I was watching a speech by Sadhguru where he mentioned a very critical defining feature of Hinduism. He says, unlike Western faiths, Hinduism did not place anyone at a pedestal where questions would not reach. Forget the Prophets and Masters, even Gods were received with affection and a list of questions. Nothing was ever beyond debate in Hinduism, not even Gods. This very nature of Hinduism has often been cause of concern and confusion for Western thinkers, troubled by a religion, which is seeped so deep into our culture of exploration of truth through investigation and examination. When the western scholars approach the Vedic Indian wisdom, oftentimes their approach itself is based on the assumption that they are approaching a civilization, a religion which is inferior to theirs. This makes it hard for them to accept a society which was an intellectually flourishing society…