Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Aahat

आहट न होती उन आँखों से,
तो डूबा ही रहता, अनजान ख्यालों के समंदर में . . .
उलझा तो वैसे आज भी हूँ,
बस, एक छोटी सी मुलाक़ात में,
उनकी आंखो से लफ्ज़ झलके,
और मेरे ख्यालों को एक पहचान मिल गयी . . .

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Talaash

तलाश है, एक ऐसी सुबह की,
जब आसमा में बिखरें कुछ रंग,
हलके नीले, हलके गुलाबी,
जैसे हांथो से किसी चित्रकार ने,
रात की चादर को, बड़े ही इम्तेनान से सजाया हो,
और जता रहा हो के,
धुप की पहली किरण, तेरी आँखों से ऐसे झलके,
जैसे ये सुबह एक नया पैगाम लायी हो,
और एहसास जगा दे ज़हन में,
जिंगदी वो नहीं, जो थी,
वो नहीं, जो होगी,
जिंदगी तो है अभी, यहीं
तू तालाश तो कर . . .
एक ऐसी सुबह की . . .

Monday, September 17, 2012

The Artist


       “Artists are born not created. Their talent is their character, their personality, their goal, their motive, their bread, their meaning of life, their purpose of existence, and this talent in them – be it in a painter, actor, musician, writer or a scientist, is born when a human brain and heart are united. Unfortunately! We are bound by time, which by its very nature is scarce, given we are all part of the life-death cycle.” quoted the Daily Mail editorial, an extract written centuries ago by a long forgotten mathematician Aulto.

Aulto, as predicted by the new age philosophers, lived in a constant fearful state of mind, as he believed that the four dimensions ‘three dimensional space and one dimensional time’, held the key to ultimate supremacy, and that human race would eventually fail if it did not conquer these four dimensions. Although, later it was also argued that Aulto predicted a possibility of another pseudo dimension, which he named after himself ‘Aulto-exist’, that acted as link a between space and time.

To explain the nature of such this pseudo dimension, Aulto used a mathematical co-ordinate system where three dimensional space and one dimensional time were represented by coordinates (x, y, z, t). He later reviewed that if space and time were to be connected by a pseudo dimension ‘Aulto-exist’ the coordinates of a particle located in space (x1, y1, z1) at time (t1) could be written as (x1, y1, z1, t1, AE), where x1, y1, z1, t1 represented the space and time coordinates of that particle, and AE represented its coordinate on the ‘Aulto-exist’ dimension. Hypothetically, a particle could relocate to its new coordinate (x2, y2, z2, t2, AE) keeping its pseudo dimension ‘AE’ as constant. The theory worked perfectly, if the space coordinates were changed w.r.t. corresponding change in time, or in other words, at a given instant a particle could exist only at one location in space represented by one defined space co-ordinates. Aulto extended his theory, that it was possible for a weightless object to be teleported to different space  coordinate at a single instant by using the pseudo dimensional ‘AE’ link. Therefore, his main focus during the later part of his life remained on finding a weightless object that could be used to prove his theory of teleportation.

Aulto published numerous journal papers, with a belief that, one day, mathematics along with other sciences will have the capacity to master and control all the four dimensions. He even anticipated that it was only matter of time that weightlessness could be used travel to any co-ordinates of the universe. However, his theory on pseudo dimension contradicted core fundamental definitions of various facts and was based on hypothetical ideas that were challenged by the scientists of those times. It is also believed that Aulto’s core subject of interest was religious philosophy but his fascination towards ‘space and time’ theory made him shift his focus towards experimental mathematics.

Space equations made complete sense to him, but, when these equations were combined with ‘time’, he felt as if his knowledge was trapped. He spent hours and hours in his laboratory, but could not gather ideas about how time was created. Is it finite or infinite? Does it depended on frame of reference? Is time required, to change our space co-ordinate? However, a question that was deep rooted in his mind was: “If weightlessness exist, is it possible move to a different space-time coordinate and defeat time?”

He spent nights working on this problem and isolated himself from the world. After days of absence, he was found locked inside his room staring at a pendulum clock with his dark red eyes, a pen between his fingers, the paper board in front had hundreds of equations and diagrams – some with reference to space and time, and others were made of human body, of religious teaching, which none of his co-scientists could comprehend.

A few days later, he organized a seminar to which he invited brightest minds, experts, geniuses of the planet, with the aim to explain his theory and trigger a wave to solve this problem:

“My dear friends”, he spoke softly.

“Artists are born not created. Their talent is their character, their personality, their goal, their motive, their bread, their meaning of life, their purpose of existence, and this talent in them – be it in a painter, actor, musician, writer or a scientist, is born when a human brain and heart are united. Unfortunately! We are bound by time, which by its very nature is scarce, given we all are part of the life-death cycle.”

“Can we conquer time?”

The room was dead silence. No one spoke or moved. It looked for the moment as if time was frozen, a layer of silence covered the Auditorium. Aulto looked tired, drops of water appeared on his forehead. He waited another minute and gulped the glass of water that was put on the side table and said his final words, “Oh yes, my goodness! We can, can’t we? We are made of  . . . weightless . . . SOUL!” The crowd waited patiently to hear Aulto’s next words, another minute of silence, students and co-professors stared directly at his face, as if, the equation of time was finally resolved. Aulto looked shocked and excited, but he spoke nothing more. He collected his books and left the seminar hall quietly.

Within seconds, the silence in the Auditorium turned into chaos. The question appeared everywhere - “Has professor Aulto found the key to supress time?” Only Aulto had the answer.
                             
The university was closed for winter holidays. Everyone, the entire country, waited for the answer, for the question that was discovered by Aulto himself. Thousands of letters flew in from journalists, philosophers, scientists, physicists across the globe. None were answered.

Days later Aulto’s body was found, sitting on his study table at his country house, still, clam and untouched. There was no sign of theft, no sign of a disease, no sign of a weapon, so sign of trouble. The equation of time was yet to solved and yet another mystery was left for the world to answer - the cause of Aulto’s death. The best practitioners across the world examined his body but could not predict the cause of his death.

The daily mail quoted an article on his death:

“The Artist is gone. Thousands appeared during the cremation ceremony of the famous philosopher, scientist, mathematician – The great Aulto. The man who had no family of his own but received blessings and prayers from millions around the world. The man who selflessly dedicated his life to ‘space-time’ equation. The man who was believed to have cracked the problem time-mystery dies of unknown cause. The country pays high regard and tribute to the great Aulto. The man who left this world, his great ideas, his philosophy, his countless achievements and his final words that he left for the world: ‘Yes!, Aulto-exist!’

He indeed exists in our hearts.”


**** The End ****


Friday, September 14, 2012

Tum

झील का किनारा हो तुम
आसरा हो, मन की कश्तियों का
समंदर हो, परछाई दिखती है जिसमें 
बिखरते ख्यालों की
जिनसे, फुरसत मिलते ही
बातें किया करता हूँ में
कविता हो, एक जवाब हो, 
मेरी खाव्हिसों की, पहचान हो
तस्वीर की तरह, मेरे अन्दर बसी हो
चेहरा दिखता नहीं तुम्हारा,
बस एक रौशनी है, एहसास है
जिसे बंद आँखों से महसूस कर 
मेरे रूह को
सुकून सा मिलता है . . .

The Family


The three member family had turned four after baby Siddharth was born. The grandpa gradually moved to the couch in the living room as Reena, Siddharth’s mother, kept complaining about crunching space in their two bedroom apartment. Sunil, the husband, had to agree against his will, to prove his loyalty towards beloved wife. Grandpa quietly adjusted on the couch and witnessed yet another fight between Sunil and Reena. Their neighbour, the Sharma family, had bought a new Hyundai car while Reena was tired of her everyday walks to the Bazaar.

Naturally, Grandpa loved spending his leisure time playing with Siddharth, who was indifferent to the exile member. And why not! They had similar persona and shared common interest in almost everything, which proved them excellent companions among the family.

Grandpa always mislaid his walking stick, while Siddharth found them in no time. Both enjoyed evening snacks and occasionally watched cartoon network followed by the news, although, Siddharth usually fell asleep before the weather forecast was announced. They both made little sense to Reena. Both had common dislike for milk and milk products with the common exception of ice-cream. Both loved the playing board games, although Siddharth only knew tossing the dice, which were later searched by the family maid Sheela Bai in the morning.

Lately, both grandpa and Siddharth had developed a common liking towards a bollywood item song ‘Sheela ki Jawani’. Sheela Bai had no role in it but nevertheless, she threatened the family of her resignation, and complained Reena about Grandapa’s teasing habit. Grandpa soon turned to ‘Munni Badnaam’ to prove Sheela Bai’s unprofessional behavior. However, Sheela Bai surprisingly resigned the very next day. The family later found out Sheela Bai’s daughter's name to be Munni.

Siddharth never had a say in the family, which was understandable, as he literally was mute with his routine experimental words: Bhoooo…, Baahha…, and a few other sounds - which could only be translated to human signal by a very high frequency modular. Anyway, grandpa, once the head of the family, had no impact in the decision making of the family either, given Sunil listened only to his wife.

After several failed suggestions in the family matters, Grandpa turned his attention towards Halkat Jawani (the latest Karrena Kappor item song), which worked perfectly well for the family, as their new cook Bhola was himself fond of Kareena Kapoor.

Reena’s recurring complaints led the family purchase a car with grandpa’s retirement fund, for Siddharth might soon be enrolled in a primary school, five miles from the house. A better version of the Hyundai car was selected with the approval from Sharma family.

Siddharth was eventually enrolled in a school just next block, for his mother could not bear the idea of her son commuting at such small age. Grandpa obviously walked Siddharth home from school everyday. The car, instead served the better purpose of fulfilling Reena's desire taking her to new shopping destinations. Sunil kept himself busy working hard to run the family. While, Grandpa, Siddharth and the cook Bhola kept themselves at home enjoying their evening snacks, television and Kareena Kapoor's halkat jawani.

The harmony was finally restored in the family.

*** The End ***

Friday, September 7, 2012

Paigaam

एक गूँज सी आती है हवाओं में,
हर सांस को जैसे छु लेती है,
बात ऐसी ही दबी है निगाहों में,
करवटों में आकर जो सब बोल देती है,
पैगाम है, आईने में जिसे आजमाया करते हैं,
एक मुलाक़ात है, जो इस दर्द-ए-इज़हार को रोक लेती है

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Bombay


There is something about Bombay which remains mystery to me. I had been living in this city for almost eight years, before I left three month ago in search of something new that could add more meaning to my life, or probably something that this city lacks. Peace, solitude or serenity? I cannot tell. Only at that time, the city seemed unfit for my survival, for my dreams, for my future.
As karma would have it, I am here since yesterday without even knowing the duration of my stay. The feeling is mixed that of being a refuge at your own house. Whatever it is, the city has its special way of greeting you.

I've realized that I had been missing: my friends - those bastards; Raju bhai - with his 'one minute' cooking techniques; the watchman of our society -  who salutes by closing one eye; humidity in the air; the eternal rush at Andheri Station; the local trains; the red colored BEST buses; the sensational marine drive; the blue shade of the slums; the sky touching towers; the shopping malls; the weekend outlets; the 11 month rent agreement and the cheat brokers; the terrible traffic; the wicked and soulful girls; Haaji Ali dargah - the emperor of the sea . . . these and many more I've missed.

The city has won my heart all over again. I can positively tell that I can hate and love this city at the same time. I wonder, if I've ever felt anything like this before? I can assure you it's a funny feeling. I feel welcomed. No matter how long I stay away - I'll be a drop of its ocean. 

Bombay has been kind to this young aimless explorer.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Balika Vadhu

14 Aug 2012

Saas-bahu continues to entertain the Indian television. Balika Vadhu has completed over a thousand episodes now, running successfully for over seven years.

It seems that the music composer and the director do not get along too well. The composer makes all effort to kill the moment of the scene by using a peculiar dhadhamm...dhadhamn... drum beats. The director after all these years, has learned himself a few tricks to beat the composer’s determination – he focuses the camera again-and-back-again on the actor’s face to keep the viewer’s attention. The poor actor has started complaining neck problems; it seems to move only in one direction.

The lead actress of Balika Vadhu is now in her twenties, with her second marriage on the way. Every Indian family is excited about it (except the music composer, who seems to have intensified the drum beats) – after all, she is engaged to the district collector, who is madly in love with her. The actress, however, is in a bit of a problem. It might take another thousand episodes before she can turn her neck in the other direction.

Monday, August 13, 2012

13 Aug 2012

Sunshine after almost a month of rainfall. Centre room of the house has an open window and turns bright, as if a candle being burn into multiple flames of equal shape and size evenly spread over the walls – still and calm.

The air is thin and cold, but the surroundings deceiving its purpose – appealing to be warm and cosy. The sun disappears into the clouds, it  appears back again with in minutes – playing hide and seek with the neighbourhood. Fascinating – how the weather can be illusive and dishonest, just like human mind.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Tomorrow


Tomorrow!
You awaited fruit,
A mysterious truth

Today’s myth,
A leaf of my deep-rooted seeds

Answer to my gloomy night,
My patience, My fight

Eternal love, blind faith
My future, my fate

Pure happiness, Sheer joy
My sorrow, my cry

A deep anguish
An honest pain,
You’re my defeat
You’re my gain

A calculated risk
An unfixable guilt,
You’re everything
Or are you zilch?

You’re my melody
A beautiful song,
An attempt
Of breaking dawn

You’re my pen
My thoughts,
You’re the reflection
Of my marvellous past

So, Tomorrow!
Come, what it may!
Come, what’s keeping you away?