Posts Tagged ‘Happenings

21
Jun
17

इसलिए

दिमाग फितूरी था
इसलिए
बहुत सोचा इक
दिन
फिर से
अपने बारे में;
और जाने किस
गुबार में
अष्टाव्रक जिंदगी
के उस कोने
की सफाई करने
चला।
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18
Apr
16

एक हक़ीकत यह भी!

“मैं हँसी के जाम में, ज़िंदगी का ज़हर पीता हूँ,
फेंक कर पतवार को हाथों से नाव खेता हूँ.”
“मैं क्या हूँ? कहाँ का हूँ? कैसे बताऊँ?
मैं – एक वह हूँ, जो मैं समझता हूँ मैं हूँ
एक वह हूँ, जो दूसरे समझते हैं मैं हूँ
असली मैं, इन दोनो बीच कुछ हूँ.”
– कुछ पंक्तियाँ कविता संग्रह ‘क्षण घूँघरू’ से (लेखक: स्वर्गिय प्रोफेसर रमेश कुमार शर्मा)

जिंदगी की ‘जेब में
इक छेद क्या हुआ,
सिक्कों से ज़्यादा
रिश्ते सरक गये.’

Continue reading ‘एक हक़ीकत यह भी!’

22
Jan
16

Quandary

“They say that there are moments that open up your life like a walnut cracked, that change your point of view so that you never look at things the same way again.” – Jodi Picoult

It has been a tough couple of months with alienated alliances manifesting and skeletons tumbling out of various proverbial cupboards! Or is it that I chose not to acknowledge these alliances and not open these cubbyholes?

“…..truth will out!” as Launcelot Gobbo said. But the truth was always known to me (was it?), so why the anguish? Is it because nobody else seems to be bothered about it?

There is a wonderful anonymous quote, “Sometimes it’s not the people who change; it’s the mask that falls off.” When this happens, does one look at the mask or the face that has been exposed? What do you do with the fallen mask? What do you do with the exposed face? Is it really an exposed face or simply another mask? Do you wait for the mask to be picked-up? Do you want the mask to be picked-up? By whom? Should the face be covered again? Whose?

Is it your mask and face? Or mine!

Continue reading ‘Quandary’

24
Aug
11

Breathing with the Chitals

“What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.”
– Chief Crowfoot

This incident happened 17 years ago, when Dhikala wasn’t the monkey-infested, jeep-cartel ridden, dirty, noisy place that it is now. It was always great to reach Dhikala after the long and exhilarating drive from Dhangarhi gate. Ignoring the tourism department’s restaurant we would head straight for Kaleji’s Dhabha; sit under the thatched roof waiting for aloo paranthas that would be washed down with steaming cups of tea and, checking what was being planned for dinner.

Continue reading ‘Breathing with the Chitals’