Words

Poetry, Brain and Nostalgia – all that i’m reading these days

posted by adee on 19/02/2012 in daily life, literature

“The Royal typewriter I used was my maternal grandfather’s gift to my parents. Bought second-hand in Simla from an Englishman who was selling his effects prior to leaving the country, it was a portable model that had the weight of a saddle quern and came in a high black case. When I thought I had accumulated enough poems to fit a small volume, I typed them up and took the pages to the nearest bindery. Two days later the mournful-looking cloth-bound object I held in my hand was narrower than a paperback and barely possessed a spine, it had neither jacket nor publisher’s imprint, and yet bore some resemblance to a book of poems. I brought it home and hid it between the college textbooks on economics and geography.”

A passage from ‘Partial Recall’ by Arvind Krishna Mehrotra, published in the first edition of the journal Civil Lines: New Writing from India. As this iconic journal is no longer in circulation, Penguin Viking brought out a ‘best of’ anthology of sorts brought together by its original editor, Rukun Advani. Had been looking for it and got it yesterday from the Sahitya Academy library. The volume is titled, ‘Written For Ever’ The Best of Civil Lines and the introduction by Advani, ‘Civility, Civilization, and Chivas Regal’ itself sets the tone nicely for things to come. This first piece by Mehrotra was an absolute gem and am eager about the treasures that lie ahead.

The other stuff am reading these days:

  • The Science Of Happiness by Stefan Klein, (taken from my Strategic Planning Director at the office- this is a highly recommended book on the inside story of our brain and its powers to make us, keep us happy),
  • The Norton Anthology of Poetry- Fourth Edition (have had a renewed interest in it recently), and
  • whole lot of short prose and verse (Hindi, English and translations) as and when the gut craves 🙂

Wish me happy reading!

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saturday the eighteenth of february

posted by adee on 19/02/2012 in poetry

an anthology of poetry
on board the sunshine metro
reading room in a library
sanctity garbed in retro

meeting ‘the best of civil lines’
a lifetime of work by Sakti Burman
two cups of conversation in the canteen
and alphabets on trees, dangling in the sun

momos and vegetable soup
summer shopping awhile
roadside ginger tea, to boost
your smile, the smile

that adds meaning to my life
making all of it worthwhile

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ऐनक / aenak

posted by adee on 17/02/2012 in poetry

न जाने कब से

ख़्वाबों की ऐनक लगाये घूम रहा हूँ

बिना इस के

ज़िन्दगी धुंधली नज़र आती है…

…पर अब लगता है जैसे

नंबर बढ़ गया है आँखों का

अब पुराने ख्वाबों से काम चलेगा नहीं

 

na jaane kab se/ khwabon ki aenak lagaye ghoom raha hoon/ bina is ke/ zindagi badi dhundhli nazar aati hai… par ab to lagta hai jaise/ number badh gaya hai aankhon ka/ ab purane khwabon se kaam chalega nahi

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दिल है तो धड़कने का बहाना कोई ढूंढे -शहरयार की याद में

posted by adee on 15/02/2012 in daily life, poetry

शहरयार चले गए. सोमवार को twitter पर trending topics में देखा था उनका नाम. डर लगा भी था, के कहीं जो मैं सोच रहा हूँ, वही तो नहीं हुआ? पर फ़िर काम की मसरूफ़ियत में बात दिमाग़ से निकल गयी. आज Times Of India में देखा तो ध्यान आया, शहरयार तो सच में ही चले गए!

शहरयार से, या यूँ कहूँ उनके कलाम से मेरा पहला परिचय फिल्म ग़बन की इस ग़ज़ल से हुआ था, “सीने में जलन, आँखों में तूफ़ान सा क्यूँ है, इस शहर में हर शख्स परेशान सा क्यूँ है” मुझे याद है, मैं काफ़ी छोटा था उम्र में और मैंने पापा से कुछ शब्दों के मतलब भी पूछे थे. उस समय दूरदर्शन पर अच्छी फिल्में आती थीं और मैं इन संजीदा फिल्मों का काफ़ी शौक़ीन था. बाद में जाकर पता लगा की इन्हें तो आर्ट फिल्में बोलते हैं और ये किसी तरह का parallel सिनेमा है! खैर, शहरयार की शायरी ने ज्यादा मेरे जेहन में घर किया, फिल्म उमराव जान के गानों की शक्ल में. इस फिल्म की ग़ज़लों ने तो जैसे दिमाग़ में बैठा दिया, शहरयार कोई नौजवान शायर है जो कभी कभी फिल्मों के लिए भी लिखता है. इसके काफी समय बाद तक भी मुझे ये नहीं पता था की वे एक बड़े नामी शायर हैं और उन्हें कई अवार्ड और सम्मान मिल चुके हैं!

कुछ साल पहले, दिल्ली book fair से, वाणी प्रकाशन द्वारा प्रकाशित उनकी गजलों के दो संग्रह लेकर आया. काफ़ी समय तक वो शेल्फ पर अनछुए रहे. कारण यह था के थोड़ा-बहुत मैंने जो शहरयार को पढ़ा, वो दर्द भरा ज़्यादा था और प्यार भरा कम! बचपन में आर्ट सिनेमा देखने वाला मैं बड़ा होकर खुद की ज़िन्दगी को वैसा बनने से न रोक पाया. अब जब ज़िन्दगी parallel cinema जैसी हुयी तो शायरी में, literature में, फिल्मों में उस से बचने लगा. mainstream ज़्यादा भाने लगा. इसीलिए, ज़िन्दगी को हक़ीकत का आइना दिखाती शहरयार की शायरी सिर्फ शेल्फ पर ही रह गयी.

पर पिछले कुछ समय से, मेरे हाथ बार-बार उन भूली हुई क़िताबों की तरफ बढ़ने लगे थे. दिल जब भी दुखी या परेशान होता, ये ग़ज़लें एक दोस्त की तरह साथ बैठ कर समझाने लगतीं, सहारा देने लगतीं. जब-जब मैंने अपने facebook page पर उनका लिखा कोई शेर डाला, कई दोस्तों ने उसे पसंद किया. मेरी हालिया ज़िन्दगी में शहरयार की अहमियत बढ़ती जा रही थी. और फ़िर खबर पढ़ी की शहरयार नहीं रहे.

किसी दिन, एक-एक करके वो सारे शायर, लेखक, कलाकार चले जायेंगे जिनकी छाँव में मेरा लड़कपन बीता है. सिर्फ उनका लिखा हुआ, create किया हुआ रह जायेगा मेरे साथ, हम सबके साथ. और जहाँ तक शहरयार के कलाम की बात है, आज भी जो उनकी लिखी पहली ग़ज़ल मैंने सुनी थी, उसका यही एक शेर एक मंत्र की तरह बार बार दोहराता रहता हूँ. मेरे लिए, ये एक philosophy है, फ़लसफ़ा है  ज़िन्दगी का और उनकी शायरी का निचोड़ भी:

“दिल है तो धड़कने का, बहाना कोई ढूंढे
पत्थर की तरह, बेहिसो-बेजान सा क्यूँ है”

(कुंवर अख्लाक मुहम्मद खाँ शहरयार, 16 जून 1936 – 13 फरवरी 2012 )

“seene mein jalan” movie Gaban

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on Children’s day a poem, a thought, a wish

posted by adee on 14/11/2011 in childhood, poetry

Rosh Hashanah
Even after the murder
of the child Muhammad on Rosh Hashanah,
the paper didn’t go black.
In the same water in which the snipers
wash their uniforms,
I prepare my pasta,
and over it pour
olive oil in which I’ve browned
pine nuts,
which I cooked for two minutes with dried tomatoes,
crushed garlic, and a tablespoon of basil.
As I eat, the learned minister of foreign affairs
and public security
appears on the screen,
and when he’s done
I write this poem.
For that’s how it’s always been –
the murderers murder,
the intellectuals make it palatable,
and the poet sings.

Rosh Hashanah by Aharon Shabtai
(translated from the Hebrew by Peter Cole)
tomorrow we’ll be celebrating the Children’s Day in India. but do we even think of the world we are creating for them? and let’s not blame ‘others’ for it… be it politicians, big businesses or terrorists or other countries or races or religions or anyone we don’t like. it is ‘we’ who are the world today and what we do now will become the future as well. hatred won’t heal, indifference won’t help, doing something about it all will.
may the world be a better place to live for children, the next time their day arrives. *amen*
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For a writer everything is life… each moment verse, each breath surprise

posted by adee on 10/11/2011 in literature, writing

A lazy afternoon, wrapped in the lethargy of a whole night andmorning spent at office. Fortunately it is a holiday, so I can be comparativelyat ease. (Only comparatively as already new work has started piling up!) I wantto start reading the new collection of poems ‘the great enigma’ by TomasTranstromer. Had bought it a few days back but couldn’t start it because of thework load.
And at around 6 in the morning when I (finally) unwrappedthe book, I could’ve started with the foreword or the first poem, but then I sawthe bookmark in the middle and was curious to know what poem it’ll be at. Turnedout as if it was meant for me, prompting me to update my facebook status andshare it with the world: Its 6am, I’vejust reached home from office and found these words by Transtromer waiting forme. “The law of gravity presses| us| against our work by day and againstour beds by night.” For a writer, there isno work or home and day or night…


The title for the post comes from my love’s comment onthe above mentioned update. Thanks Dee! And you can read Transtromer’s completepoem here on my other blog: http://goo.gl/A4vKa OR my facebook page: http://goo.gl/05duH OR the new Google+ page: http://goo.gl/ZUow4 🙂
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Remembering Sardar, not forgetting Indira

posted by adee on 31/10/2011 in India

Today is the birth anniversary of the iron man of India,Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel. It is also the death anniversary of our late PrimeMinister, Smt. Indira Gandhi.
Sardar Patel was amongst the tallest leaders of our freedommovement and newly independent India. In fact, today what we know as India islargely due to his efforts. Anyways, I guess we do remember our school booksmentioning this particular aspect of our history. On the other hand, Smt. Gandhiwas one of the strongest PMs India ever had. So strong, that once she curbedthe very democracy that made her PM!
This post doesn’t attempt to be a history lesson. Though I hopethat today’s youth understands the difference between a leader who unifiedIndia versus one who despite her many strong points, subverted the very idea ofIndian democracy. (That particular episode, of forced emergency is not taughtin our govt. controlled history curriculum.)
What this post attempts is to be a brief reminder of how we,largely fed by our media are gradually relegating those who really matter(ed)to only the history books while making gods out of those well, who don’t matterthat much. See the number of ads devoted to Mrs. Gandhi in today’s newspapersversus the one ad remembering Sardar. All these ads have been carried out bythe ruling party Congress or the various government ministries under itscontrol. (And it is the taxpayers money, our money that fuels this sycophancy.)I would have been happy if it were only sycophancy on Congress’ part. Its dynasticcult is quite well-known to be talked about here.
What I’m more worried about is the gradual replacement ofour true history by the one sponsored by those who have ruled us for the majorpart of our independent existence. Contrary to what Congress’ and its mediamanagers want us to believe, Sardar and what he did for India is far moreimportant than Indira and her way of ruling India. And this little, 370 oddwords post is my attempt to set things right, in my own insignificantly significantway. Today is my day, our day, to first remember Sardar, while not forgettingIndira as well. Are you with me?
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on her traveling away for a vacation

posted by adee on 29/10/2011 in travel

i can tolerate our daily distance
who is like a familiar stranger
(me in one city
you with her neighbour)
but today it is
a feeling unfamiliar
as if i’m at sea, in landlocked Delhi
while your are away, at the old kala pani
this distance is a bridge i cannot cross
this pain, too aching to be sweet
a thousand miles is too far a distance
for my heart to go and beat
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doosron ko itna padha, khud ko likhna bhoola main// दूसरों को इतना पढ़ा, खुद को लिखना भूला मैं

posted by adee on 27/09/2011 in poetry
दूसरों को इतना पढ़ा, खुद को लिखना भूला मैं
कभी तो घर आऊँगा, सुबह का भटका-भूला मैं

doosron ko itna padha, khud ko likhna bhoola main
kabhi to ghar aaoonga, subah ka bhatka-bhoola main

दुनिया के इस मेले में, रोज़ नए दोस्त बनते हैं
कितनों को मैं याद नहीं, कितनों को हूँ भूला मैं

duniya ke is mele mein, roz naye dost bante hain
kitno ko main yaad nahi, kitno ko hoon bhoola mein

रोज़ सुबह अख़बार उठाकर, दुनिया को मैं जलता देखूं
खुद की छोटी चोट बड़ी है, दुनिया भर को भूला मैं

roz subah akhbar uthakar, duniya ko main jalta dekhoon
khud ki chhoti chot badi hai, duniya bhar ko bhoola main

30 बरस के इस जीवन में, अपनों ने कई ज़ख्म दिए
तेरे प्यार के मलहम से, हर उस ज़ख्म को भूला मैं

30 baras ke is jeevan mein, apno ne kayi zakhm diye
tere pyaar ke malham se, har us zakhm to bhoola main

बाहर बारिश झूम रही है, कोयल तितली बच्चे भी
बड़े बड़े ‘टारगेट्स’ के पीछे, छोटी खुशियाँ भूला मैं

bahar barish jhoom rahi hai, koyal title bacche bhi
bade bade ‘targets’ ke peeche, choti khushiyan bhoola main

तूने ही गम दिए हैं, तू ही देगा खुशियाँ भी
छोटी-मोटी तेरी भूलें, मौला सारी भूला मैं

toone hi gum diye hain, tu hi dega khushiyan bhi
choti-choti teri bhoolein, maula sari bhoola main

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Sometimes i wonder how i’ll die

posted by adee on 26/09/2011 in Uncategorized
Sometimes i wonder how i’ll die. Will it be something quick and painless, or something so drawn out that waiting for it’ll become dreadful and i’ll wish for the darkness to arrive early. What will i be doing at the time of my death. Will i get to know beforehand if my time is near. Cos’ there is nothing more shameful than leaving a task incomplete and still i’m sure i’ll have many tasks before me, incomplete while i leave. Will my family be around when it’s time, will i be surrounded by friends or will i cease to exist in a distant land where nobody would know my name. I wonder if they’ll cry or laugh after i’m gone. Will i go quietly like the passing out of a flame or will i rage and fight like a moth caught in that flame. Will i leave the world a better place than i found it or if i’ll be amongst the nameless, faceless multitude who have lived and died inconspicuously throughout human history.

Sometimes, i really think that i don’t want to die at all (but then who does) and even after death, i want to live in the memories of those who i’ve left behind. I think death is inevitable, and it is too early to think of death, but yeah, i would really like to be missed when i’m gone.

And oh, the fact that when i’m dying, i wouldn’t like to wonder how i lived…

not a good way to start the week 🙂 posted this last night here on the blog, after reading a bit piece by Neruda. but that doesn’t mean, i haven’t thought about this subject before. i guess, all of us think about death at one time or more in life. have you wondered about how it will be, when it will be 🙂
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