An invitation एक न्यौता

एक न्यौता

तेरा पैग़ाम कविता के ज़रिये आया है
एक हक़, एक न्यौता फ़रमाया है

कुछ लफ़्ज़ों की फरमाईश हुई
एक चोरी छुपे ख़्वाहिश हुई

किस लौ से चिराग़ सुलगाया है

ख्यालों की महफ़िल हुई रौशन
वादे जो थे अधजले, उन्हें फिर सुलगाया है

न्यौता जो आया है
सर आँखों तेरा सरमाया है

पर मेरे लफ़्ज़ों की दवात है सूखी
कलम भी कहीं रख कर है छूटी

तेरा पैग़ाम्बर यूँ ताँके है मुँह
किन लफ़्ज़ों से उसे जवाब दूँ
क्या खाली हाथ लौटा दूँ

भूली बिसरी यादों के
कुछ बचे खुचे रँग हैं
एक लम्हे में घोल
इन्हें तस्वीर में सजाया है

अधूरे वादों का क़र्ज़ चुकाया है
तेरे न्यौते को यूँ लौटाया है

4/3/2017

How Flowers Die

Flowers

We await their arrival

Seed the soil

Water the plants

Invite bees to our garden

We nurture their buds

Walk among their fields

Inhale their bouquet 

With our children

We cut their stems

To fit our glass vases

Arrange them for the pleasure

Of a loved one

We spread their petals

Freshly plucked 

On grooms and goddesses 

In our sanctums 

We paint their colors 

Snap them with our phones

Share their pics in our feeds

To be coveted by millions

We ship them 

In containers across continents

In the dead of winter

So a girl's heart may be won

And after the bloom is off

We toss away the dry ones

Wash away the trodden

Burn the rotten

And sweep away the spotted ones

When they are done

So are we with them

Call this cosmic chakra

Or the karmic logic

Of a third eye

For we fear not

How flowers die 

सेक

सेक 


चढ़ते दिन के सवेरे में
जब मिले थे हम रस्ते में
अभी सायों का शोर था

कुछ ख्वाब थे उधड़े उधड़े
कुछ ख्वाब बने बनाए
कुछ ख्वाब थे रौशन रौशन
कुछ ख्वाब रात के साये

उगते सूरज के
उतावले थे हम
कब पौन फ़टे
और साये घटें

---

लो, अब आ पहुंचें हैं
उम्र की दोपहर पे
सूरज का नाँच है सर पे
ज़िन्दगी का शोर पल पल में
और साये हैं सब पाँव तले

फूंक फूंक कर
सुलगाये थे कोयले
अब ये जल उठें हैं
हमरी सांसों से

एक धुआं है रल रहा
हर ख्वाब में
एक सेक हैं फ़ैल रहा
दूर फलक तक

हर पेड़ पर
झिलमिला रहें हैं पत्ते
और फ़ल हैं पके हुए
इसी सेक के

आज उन ख्वाबों का
बुन लिया है आशियाना
जो बटोरे थे तिनके
हमने राह पर

---

खुल गए हैं रस्ते दूर तक
यह इकरार मंज़िल का हैं
दोपहर की ढलती धूप में
एक इज़हार साहिल का हैं

शुक्र है इस दिन का
शुक्र है इस सेक का

निकल गया है डर
सायों का
जबसे सुना है
सायों का
इस सेक पर
असर नहीं होता



April 24, 2016

Life lessons from a skydiver

Gino was a bald guy whose super fit physique belied his age. He claimed he was of Hungarian, German, and Italian descent and spoke with an accent that belied his origins.  As the owner of Wanaka Parasailing rig in New Zealand, he was adept at hoisting people into a harness and pulling them into the sky, like a kite, while chatting about any subject under the sun. During such an excursion, he and I had a conversation about his day job, as a skydiver. He confessed that he had jumped 26,000 times in over 21 years. Here is an except of our conversation about the craft of skydiving:

Q- So, how does it feel today when you sky dive? 

A- It's like driving a car. It's dangerous but you don't think about it, you just do it as habit 

Q- Do you get nervous during a jump after so many years?

A - not when I'm in the air falling, not particularly. May be after a few months of not jumping, when I get back up there, I feel a second of hesitation with my feet dangling from the edge. Then I roll off and it's easy as ever.

Q- Do you pack your own chute? 

A- not the main one, just the reserve. 

Q- What!  why?

A- I can pack the main parachute in less than three minutes. It's easy and it works. Of course it is critical to get it done well but it is not as big a deal as getting the reserve parachute right. A reserve chute is more technical to pack, can take up to 90 minutes to pack, but more forgiving in the air. It is also the one that should be calibrated correctly for the total weight of the jumpers. I never let anyone else pack my reserve chute.

Q- In your 26,000 jumps, have you ever had to use your reserve?

A- yes. twelve times 

Pause/ I stare at him. 

Q- How do you know exactly when to deploy the reserve?

A- smiles.. You know. You look up and see if the main chute is not fully opened or tangled up and you have to make the call.

Q- What's the call?

A- To cut the main chute off, and then deploy the reserve... Of course with enough time

Q- Why not keep the main chute, and just open the reserve as well?

A- that could get both of them tangled... And then, you will have to maneuver both the chutes which can make steering and landing very dangerous 

Q- You are telling me that there's a moment when you cut your main chute, and then pull for your reserve. That's the exact moment when you find out if the reserve opens. 

A- Now you know why I pack the reserve myself

Q-  Is that the most dangerous part of sky diving? The moment when you pull the cord to open the chute? 

A - No. 

Q- Really, what is it? 

A- The most dangerous part of sky diving is the first 1000 feet of flight. After the plane takes off, if something happens within the first thousand feet of its climb, there is nothing I can do to save myself or others. Not enough height and time for a jump. You will just get crushed. Above that height, I can always jump and open the chute. 

Q- And land on your feet?

A - that's the idea, mate.

Q- So, it what do you do about this risk?

A - Nothing. Just hope that the pilot does his job. 

Q-  For someone who's looking to skydive for the first time, what's the single piece of advice to reduce their risk?

A - Go with an experienced jumper

Q- Who is an experienced jumper?

A - Someone who's done at least 6000 jumps. You are rookie until then.

--------

Life lessons I took away:

Redundancy .... Have multiple chutes 

Know your most critical risk, and control for it ... Pack your own reserve chute

If you can't, don't worry about the risk ... Count on the pilot to fly

Sashi Tharoor: India's Most Eloquent Demagogue

Shashi Tharoor recently gave a speech in which he demanded reparations from Britain for its colonial rule of India. With wit of a writer, and calculus of a politician, Tharoor thumbed his nose at Britain. He carefully crafted his rhetoric to appeal to young Indians coming of age in economically rising India and he delivered it in a way designed to fill their chest with nationalist pride. But he is a silver tongued demagogue whose intellectual sleight of hand is dangerous. 

To condemn the British for their colonialism morally is easy bait. To claim they did harm to Indian sub continent through their pillaging and mercantilist policies is nothing new. But all his accusations imply India as passive, subjugated monolithic. In fact, Tharoor knows better but he chooses to ignore the reality that “India” was a not a nation but a bunch of princely states locked in power struggle with a decaying Mughal empire when the British arrived. With their help, these states became active participants in looting each other and their local, agrarian people.  

In his measured response to Tharoor, the blogger Aaker Paterl writes: “ The British didn’t come to conquer India; it was a creeping takeover facilitated and encouraged by Indians. Gujarat was relieved when the British finally protected them from the excesses of the Marathas (who still squat on Baroda) and the incompetence of the Mughal rump. It was the Oswal Jains who financed and executed Robert Clive’s win at Plassey. They did so because the Mughal governors there were in power but incapable of leading them, even if they were not foreign."

But Tharoor is playing a dangerous game: he is using the moral censure of British rule to rouse his audience to agree with him on “the principle of reparations.” He wants the British to pay Indians for their colonial rule. He is not after money per se, he claims, but acknowledgment of the principle. 

 With feigned insouciance, he adds:

“What it required is the principle that reparations are owed. Personally, I’d be quite happy if it was one pound a year for the next two hundred years, after the last two hundred years of Britain in India,” he added.

"Should Britain Pay Reparations to India? Shashi Tharoor Says Yes, Narendra Modi Praises Him, What Do You Think?"

By Suryatapa Bhattacharya. The Wall Street Journal. July 23, 2015

So, who should the one pound a year be taken from in Britain? One might say from the grand children of British lords and soldiers who ruled India. What about the descendants of textile workers who ruined Indian exports? Or, the children of the clergy who promoted Christianity? And, who should be exempted? The British Indians of course; and the new Muslim immigrants as well. Why not the people whose grand parents were democratic liberals and protested against British rule in India? There is, of course, no single test of assigning collective, historical guilt or victimhood. This line of reasoning is simply a way to pit people against people, since this assigns to the current generation the guilt of their forefathers. Even if the burden is real, it is not earned. We don't inherit the sins of our ancestors. 

This demagoguery is even more dangerous if we apply it to the modern Indian state. Imagine if Hindutva leaders applied this nonsense of historical reparations to Mughal descendants who displaced the natives; or if the Buddhists today were made to pay to the people conquered by Asoka. The fact is, even if no payment is ever settled, it is the assignment of tribal guilt that is odious.

Reparations make sense when the victims are identifiable, harm or loss is specific to the victims and some modicum of justice is possible in reasonable time.  After the partition of India, this was the pattern of reparations and that’s why within a decade most refugees were settled in new lands. This was the case even though many killers were never persecuted and the emotional wounds have outlasted financial ones. As Aaker Patel mentions, “I would much rather these two [Indian] parties compensate Punjabis and Gujaratis for slaughtering them in 1984 and 2002 than petition the English for their crimes of a century ago. No statute of limitations bars us from that."

For collective, historical injustices, where generations have passed on, we need truth and reconciliation, not demagoguery. This is a much harder process as Desmond Tutu pointed out in South Africa than publishing rhetorical debates that go viral. 

Presence

Yellow thread

          tied 

          to a tree

Marigold 
          scattered 

          in a thaali 

Rose petals 

          quivering 

          in a water bowl

Black dhoop 

          smoking in

          an alcove

Earthen lamps

          floating by

          the river bank

Evening air 

          fragrant with

          burning incense 

In offerings 

          left by strangers

I trace your presence 

---


Inspired from: 

"Wherever I bowed my head, I found the steps to his door" 

ਜਿਥੇ ਵੀ ਸਰ ਝੁਕਾ ਲੀਆ ਦਹਲੀਜ਼ ਜਾਪੀ ਓਸਦੀ 

जहाँ भी सर झुका लिया दहलीज़ पाई उसीकी 

Amrita Pritam 

पल | एकांत Pause

पल 

अर्सों से ढून्ढ रहां हूँ
वक़्त की फटी जेब में 
गुमशुदा सिक्कों को

कुछ रंज के सिक्के  
थे कुछ अफ़सोस के 

अब वक़्त आया है
जाड़े की छुट्टी में 
इन्हें खोजने को
 
होम विडियो में

कुछ लम्हें कैद थे  

जिन्हें मैं भूल गया था
अलमारी में रख के 

आज फुर्सत से बैठ कर 

टेप से टीवी के स्क्रीन पर 

मैंने रिहा किया है 

इन लम्हों को 

इन लम्हों की परेड में 

यूँ तो शामिल हैं कईं 

भूली बिसरी हरकतें 

पर एक चेहरे की हरकत   

मैं आगे पीछे ढूँढ रहा हूँ

और फिर ज्यूँ ही  

वह झिलमिलाता चेहरा 

टीवी के स्क्रीन पर गुज़रा 

मैंने "पॉज़" कर 

थाम लिया उस पल को 

अब लौट आया है 

मुट्ठी में वह पल 

जो कभी गुज़ारा था 

गुज़रे हुए चेहरे के साथ 

पर वक़्त बेवफ़ा 

थमता नहीं 
वह फिर चल दिया  

पिघले हुए पल के 

सिक्के को लेकर 

--------------

एकांत

बंद यादों के लिहाफ़ को

अतीत के ट्रंक से 

निकाला है आज 

विषाद की धूप लगा कर 

अब दूर की है 

एकांत की बाँस

------------------

Pause

A time to grieve
          a time to repent
          a time to retrieve
          what was spent

A time to search
          for pennies lost
          from pockets torn
          and fortunes tossed

A time to savor
          a video slice
          of ordinary days
          fallen by the side

Pause!
          look into those eyes
          rewind, replay 
          the long gone lives

Freshen up 
          the memories
          sun them
          in the morning light

The must dissolves
          and the scent returns
          of a moment spent 
          and the time we burned 

A time to seek
          what I dreamt
          and a time to find
          where it went

1/27/15