Sunday 30 March 2014

Breaking the Culture of Silence in India

“I was a girl, now I am a woman, I came alone, I die alone.
People cried when I was born, when I die none will mourn.”
_________

Antim, 13 years old had not eaten properly since years. After all, she was a girl.  When she was born, the whole community had cried. Not tears of joy but of pain. After the torturous nine months that her mother had gone through, all everyone was expecting was to see the baby that would carry the family name ahead, bring joy to the community where having a baby girl was a sin. And when she came in, not only did the family-friends cried, the mother who had borne her in her uterus cried, from both her heart and her body. She was that’s why named Antim, which meant, the last one.

Her mother conceived almost as soon as she could again. And when her brother was born, that was the end of any happiness she could have seen in this world where patriarchy was the only rule that prevailed. While the whole crowd around her danced in joy, the pain she will have to go through was right in front of her, waiting to grab her like a demon. As she grew, she remained aloof of the basic joys of life: freedom, food and family. At 13, when she started menstruating for the first time, as confused as she was of the changes that were happening to her, she was unaware of the fact that now, the burden of being a woman had grabbed her, a burden she would have to deal with a smile on her face. No proper nutrition, thousand rules to abide by, and unaware of what she could have been, she was being trained to become a woman, a woman who her mother was, her grandmother was and may be her baby girl will be later.

Menstruation is a phenomenon that changes everything for a girl. As she dwindles with the body and emotional changes that happen to her, she is forced to take it as a curse instead of a blessing. On one hand where she can see her body change, on the other she sees how her curious mind is shut forever. Neither does her mother tell her what to do, nor does anybody else. Hygiene, nutrition, puberty, sex education are topics that are dusted under the carpet. As she grows, she realizes that she must have done sins to be born a woman.
______________

Suman, 23 years old sits beside me as we discuss the issues women face in the community. A look at her is enough to understand that though she smiles, she is empty inside. A mother to three girls, she has recently gone through her third abortion. In her six years of marriage, she has been pregnant almost always. With an expressionless face, she explains that somewhere women are born to live a life this way. The purpose of a woman coming on this earth is only to reproduce and so what she was going through seemed to her like a duty. Desires somewhere had died long ago, or maybe never existed at all.

She was married when she was 17 years old. A case of child marriage as she was, she had never seen her husband’s face, and so marriage was just another duty. In a small yet rich town of the most prosperous state of India, she came to her in-laws knowing the duties she was entitled to do. One of which was satisfying her husband in bed, another one being giving the family the heir, male heir. On one hand while she dwindled with expectations of the family growing every day for her to produce a baby boy, she was being cursed every day for failing to deliver. And so, one abortion after another she was loosing faith in her being able to fulfill her duty, failing to be the ideal woman she was defined to be since childhood. Droopy eyes with dark circles around, she was pregnant this time too and scared because soon she had to go through an ultrasound examination to know the sex of the baby. Little she know, its not she who defined the sex of the baby, biologically.  Suman as she was proudly named, which means a flower, had no meaning in her life because she wasn’t aware what blooming was all about.

Issues of Family Planning go way beyond the number of babies. It encompasses the awareness of contraception, rights to make that choice on using one, it entails the issues of Maternal and childcare, it entails patriarchy and control over bodies, involves issues of infection, HIV and Violence Against Women. It’s much more than contraception and incentives to get vasectomy or birth control.  The fact that even today women simply fail to say NO to their husbands and family pressures go beyond any government scheme or incentives given. The issue remains, of dialogue to move beyond ego issues of males related to condoms, of asking instead of forcing to have sex and reproduce.
_____________

Banwari, 55 years sat next to her granddaughter telling her how to cook as her mother went on the farm. She is greeted by the Nurse from the nearby Local health Clinic set up by the government asking her about the injection schedule for the baby boy just born. During the few minutes of conversation, she is tempted to ask her about the changes that she has been undergoing. She had been trying to ask her since months and so, after a lot of courage she shares her troubles. She goes on and describes a series of symptoms that she has been going through. Her knees have started to pain, she is having uneven periods.. the nurse tells her about Menopause but tries to explain to her how she should get herself tested for once. She shuns the idea, takes it as normal and shows her the door.

After two more months of pain and trouble, she wonders if she should have got those tests done. The local ayurveda doctor medicines didn’t work, neither did the priests prayers. The local community radio channel playing on the radio beside her grandson who lies there playing on the cot has the reporter discussing a similar problem. She is hesitant to discuss the issue with anyone, but after a lot of thinking she finally gathers the courage to call the doctor on the call-in show, happy that she isn’t sitting face to face with him. Being retold to get herself examined, she wonders if it was time to see a doctor.. silently, she gets back to her work. She looks at her grand daughter, maybe she sees in her a reflection of her own past. Named after Lord Krishna himself, she must show courage to handle all her pains.

While Menopause is a natural phenomenon, cervical cancers have been on a rise in the country of India. The fact that a woman would think a hundred times before she sees a doctor for a ‘personal’ problem that should not be spoken about to anyone, makes it evident that screening is slower even after awareness. Even today, when it comes to issues related to Maternal Health, Personal hygiene and Feminine care, women in rural India are just not ready to voice out their concerns, their fears. The will live in pain, as they have been trained to but never speak out, thereby remain voiceless.

_____________

These Three stories connect to the Culture of silence in India. Keep aside men. Keep aside social rituals. The fact that even a woman cannot easily talk to a woman about her troubles and get empathy in return makes it evident that even after 65 years of independence, women are crippled by social customs and age-old traditions to a level where they wont speak their desires out. Though systems of support outside family exist, the fact that the first connection should happen at home leaves them helpless. The culture of silence on issues of Menstruation, Maternal Health and Menopause have been there since ever, especially in Northern part of India. These three make women feel burdened of living and while she had faced the same in her childhood, she doesn’t easily take a step to fight for her daughter or daughter-in-law.

Privacy is good. But sometimes issues like these that are of common good, women good, need to be spoken out loud. “We tell ourselves stories in order to live” was a strong statement that Joan Didion had given long time ago. Such stories of pain and sorrow need to be spoken out loud in order to motivate women not to face troubles with a smile, but to voice out the issues they face, the pains they go through, the fears they live with.

What is the starting point?

“Starting a dialogue, maybe”

Friday 28 March 2014

जीवन

मिट्टी की सुराही जैसा है जीवन 

कितना भी सम्भल के बनाओ 

कितना भी सपनों से सजाओ

अन्त में मिट्टी ही बन जाना है 

- Diary of an oxymoron



Wednesday 26 March 2014

अटकी हुई

मैं हूँ नहीं परेशां आज फिर भी
न जाने किस बात कि बैचैनी है उलझा रही
जो वक़्त चला गया वोह दिखाई है दे रहा
जो जी रही हूँ वोह न जाने क्यूँ नहीं लगता सही

आगे जो होना है उसका किसको है पता
इस बात में नहीं हूँ मैं आज डूबी हुई
फिर भी न जाने क्या बात है उलझाये हुए
कि अटकी हुई है मेरे समय कि हर एक सुई

वक़्त भले ही है दौड़ रहा
थमी हुई हैं मेरी हर सांस आज
कैसे सुलझाऊँ मैं हर एक अपनी उधेड़बुन
इस असमंजस का कब मिलेगा कोई इलाज

जान नहीं, पहचान नहीं, फिर भी अटकी हुई हूँ मैं कहीं

- Diary of an Oxymoron 

The Distorted Mirror

I see you, You see me
Its a feeling oh so free
The world turns round and round
When the eyes meet, nothing else surrounds

When seeing becomes bare and bruises become naked
Practicality becomes outdated
The pretty and ugly comes alive at the same time
And everything makes sense, every word rhymes

I see you, you see me
The struggle begins to be, and not to be
Should you hide your scars or leave wounds open
Should you show the strong side, or show it as broken

When seeing becomes knowing and understanding flips
Emotions take an unprecedented trip
The likes and dislikes come alive on the surface
And everything seems senseless, meaningless seems the preface

I see you, you see me
It is a feeling of not being free
You hate it all, you judge every bit
Whatever you hated comes back, tat for tit

When seeing becomes hating and repulsion is felt
In the mirror, your image starts to slowly melt
Should you run away from the distorted version of you
Or stick around to cherish the feelings so rare and moments so few

I see you, you see me
Its the same, yet so different... thats all it is to be in this irony!

- Diary of an Oxymoron

The cycle; the break

I was born,
happiness aside,
the world only mourned
and all I thought was, I am falling

Its school time now,
excitement aside,
my brother is allowed to grow
and all I thought was, I am falling

As I grow up a girl,
Insecurities aside
I am not allowed to unfurl
and all I thought was, I am falling

When my bleeding periods started,
Comfort aside,
No help or knowledge was imparted
and all I thought was, I am falling

No school, no college I can go
Information aside,
I am taught just how to prepare dough
and all I thought was, I am falling

I am grown up girl forced to marry
Choices aside,
Traditions, norms, rules and babies is all I carry
and all I thought was, I am falling

Work on the field, work in the home
Incomes aside,
sitting beside the window my hair I comb
and all I thought was, I am falling

I die in pain, still nobody care
humanity aside,
I am a lonely single player
and all I thought was, I am falling

I am beaten black & blue, day & night
Sanity aside,
Through silence as I am asked to handle these fights
and all I thought was, I am falling

As i sleep beside, a broken future
hopes and faith aside,
Through the chaos I try to smile to nurture
and all I thought was, I am falling

I am falling, I am crawling
This world decides my fate: wrongs & rights
I am falling, I am crawling
Am I the hero or the victim who looses as she fights

The cycle continues i wonder as i die
the does and donts are scripted before hand
who will change the trajectory
the story of this only mans land

- Diary of an Oxymoron 

Monday 24 March 2014

The smell of nothing


The chimney is out, the kitchen is empty
Lanterns turning dim, smoke out there is plenty
And, All I miss is the smell of nothing 

The faces that surround are mere noise all around,
In the suffocating loneliness, chaos is not hard to be found 
And, All I miss is the smell of nothing

The crazy old man creates a shrieking screech 
Words come out mumbling, there is pain in his speech 
And, All I miss is the smell of nothing

The cracked door is a noisy puzzle waiting to be solved
It opens and closes on itself, in air the noises slowly dissolve
And, All I miss is the smell of nothing

Those blank eyes, Those straight faced smiles, are a depth unknown
Waiting for the world to stop its painful moan 
And, All I miss is the smell of nothing

The smell of nothing, Oh Sweet smell of nothing
Where are thou hiding all the pleasure 
Come out, let me elope to a land unknown with you
And for life, let me cherish you like a treasure 

- Diary of an Oxymoron 

Wednesday 19 March 2014

शब्द - निशब्द

यह कविता मेरी
नहीं कोई ज़रिया मुझे जान्ने का
यह तोह बस एक दूर का मृगजल है
पास आओगे, तोह छुह हो जायेगा!
-------------

अदृश्य दीवारें जो दिखाई देती हैं
कल्पना कि उपज हैं तुम्हारी
मेरे इस टेढ़े मेढ़े दर्पण में न देखो
खुद को अनजान समझने लगोगे

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

लहरें आती हैं, लहरें जाती हैं
किनारा वहीँ का वहीँ रेह जाता है
लहरें तोह शायद किनारे का फिर भी सोच लें
किनारे को कभी किसी एक लहर पे रोते देखा है?
---------------

चाहे कहो उसे धुप या सूरज निराला
है वोह बारिश के तीर, पानी कि बहती ज्वाला
कभी रेगित्सान कि मिटटी और कभी बंजर यह ज़मीन
कभी मीठी सी खुश्बू, कभी बेरंग नमकीन

उड़ती चिड़िया, जुडी हुई जड़ें
अनसुना संगीत, शान्ति कहीं है खड़े
आग या हवा, अनजान एक कहानी
कैसे शुरू करोगे सुनानी?
---------

जो लम्हे अभी जीए नहीं
उनको सोच के क्यूँ ए दिल तू है परेशान
जिनमें सांस ले रहा है ए राही
उसमें क्यूँ नहीं छोड़ देता अपने कुछ निशान


Tuesday 18 March 2014

Beneath the starry sky

Beneath the stary sky.. As I close my eyes.. 
The world is still round, profanity still found, I m still a mess and so are you!

It's the silence that is chaos, the words that create the lull..
It's magic yet tragic.. I m still a mess, and so are you

The city lights r left far behind, the darkness is lighting we need 2 find. 
Questions still exist, I m still a mess & so r u

The loneliness might just kill, but then that is all the thrill.. 
Empty mess to fill.. I m still a mess and so are you

We walk bare feet towards the bright, half way as we switch off the light..
It's directionless.. I m still a mess and so r u

We need no one, cz it's just so right. With each another their is no fight.. 
Enjoy the mess.. Cz I m still a mess and so r u

- Diary of an Oxymoron 

Defining Red

color of the day, red! Is it the sunset, oh so bright? Or the passion, the zeal to fight Is it embarrassment, you want to hide?
Or the anger, the fire that burns inside Is it rage, in a stage that it lights? Or the sorry state, painful the plight
Hide&seek it does play Fr it can nevr be ther 2 stay shout d color does 2 u, Is jst a thot or d view f blood seen anew?

- Diary of an Oxymoron

Roses, and thorns

roses, and thorns
rainbows and unicorns

the silent bird chirps in loneliness
as the world moves fast, a few beings regress

the done, undone and not done now, such hazy
smiles and frowns, oh so crazy

and then amidst this shrek of unknown
the pains are cherished, happiness is felt in the moan

you call it life, i call it living
undefined, we let it be for the misgiving

loathe in it, drag or run
cherishing to acknowledge the pain in the fun

it is there, oh the movement still
thoughts to live by, or thoughts to kill

roses, and thorns
rainbows and unicorns

- Diary of an Oxymoron


Monday 17 March 2014

Studying Home Science? Get ready to break some stereotypes: Part 1

Just saw Queen- The movie? The protagonist is shown to be a Home Science Student! Too cliched to show that she is the one who knows nothing about reality. Here, I am breaking your glass to what a Home Science Student/ Professional can look like. But before I start, here are a few situations you need to go through before you get in depth with the daily-drama a Home Science student faces. Beware, as some of the stereotypes could be few even you indulge in, due to sheer lack of information.
Situation 1: Your (over) friendly relative
“So, beta, what are you studying?”
“ Uncle, am doing graduation in Home Science”
“ Arey, arey, achi bahu banegi (you would be a good daughter-in-law)”
----------
Situation 2: Your Old School Teacher
“ Home Science???????? Well, because everyone can’t be an engineer and doctor right??”
“Yes, everyone doesn’t want to be too”
“Didn’t get admission into Botany Hons or BSc General?”
----------
Situation 3: At the University Admin Section
Arey, madam, you are from the Home Science Department right?”
“Yes, I am”
“ Still, so obese? We thought home science girls know about food well”
----------
Situation 4: At a Matrimonial Ad
“Wanted! Homely girl, beautiful and convent educated. Home Science Preferred”
“Damnit!” 
------------------------
Now That I have established a few situations that I have been a victim of, here I come down to describe how a career in Home Science has been one which I am so proud of. This is me right now: I can’t always cook the tastiest meals, but I do always know what is nutritious and what should not be eaten. I cant stitch the finest clothes but I do always know a great about fabrics, cuts, fashion and designing. I have little clue about managing home finance but I do have a lot of knowledge about investing my money in bonds and banks. I am a little too immature to have a baby right now, but I can manage 25 of them in a class, giving them the best for their cognitive growth. Last but most importantly, I am a not that much a social person as I am a social worker. My favorite topics of discussion are politics, literature, media, policy, grassroots development, gender issues, technology and yes, advocacy of almost anything and everything that is required to run a nation! I know how to make a documentary film from content to camera, how to design a political campaign, how environment issues need to be sorted logically and how doing a PhD in Community Radio is very different from being a Radio Jockey!
This is me! The ME that I owe my Home Science background to. When I joined a Bachelors  degree programme in Home Science at Delhi University, I was prepared for a up-hill task for not just becoming who I am, but also breaking few glasses, shattering few stereotypes. Looking back at the time many years ago when I started my First year at the college, I realize how little things have been a reason for shaping me overall today. Those ‘Human Development & Childhood Studies’ lectures in first year where we discussed the effect of Partition on adults and analyzed the movie Pinjar for gender effect shaped the critical thinker in me. Those ‘Fabric design’ classes where I was wondering why I would need to know about basics of stitching and my teacher had told me, “its not that you would do it, but when you make people do it for you, you would know its right or wrong” made the aspirations in me rise. Those sessions with the slum women teaching them on adult education and importance of learning for girls, made the girl in me transform into a woman, breaking the cocoon and flying like a butterfly. This has been the journey for not just me, but many others like me, specializing in Home Science, taking a field from the many options and making a career either in a United Nations office or as an entrepreneur, either in a Food Company or a corporate CSR office, either in a NGO office working on Human Rights or in a village far off doing an action project on transforming the Millennium Development Goals into reality on ground. This is us, the Home Scientist!
Over the years I have seen my friends, acquaintances, people I have randomly met and even professionals giving me the weird, aghast look when they hear that home science is not just cooking or stitching but global perspectives and behavior change. It has not been an easy journey. Even as educated and as aware people sitting in big international offices seem aloof to the idea of Home Science being so vast, wide and global yet local. As a home scientist, I am equipped to talk not just at the village level but function in an international office dealing with those village level issues because I am aware of the grassroots reality. I vividly remember those days I questioned why the course which teachers me such amazing realities and equips me to be a multi-tasker yet a specialist has been called Home Science. Today, I know that when a Home Scientist talks about Home, she feels the world is her home. When she talks about Science, she knows her arts and science linkages pretty well. She is out there for create that change, first in her own self before she goes to change the world.
And as I say this, I am not out there claiming that Home Science is the greatest profession of all. I am here, simply writing this down to make people realize that don’t judge the book by its cover and the course by its name. A little in-depth information can change the way we look at many things. As a woman, who has over the years taken a journey to reality, I feel that Home Science background has made me more grounded, more closer to realities, more creative, more free yet focused and more challenged, than I could have been in any other course that I would have opted for had I fallen in the Name Trap Game of this society.
Shut off what the schools taught on Home Science years and years ago. The world is changing; the education and life skills training courses are evolving faster than humans themselves are and so, before you go out their stamping a person on their head based on the field they come from or college they went to, dig deeper and understand. We are three sisters, all background in Home Science but having very different careers from each other. We as women know how to balance, home in the four walls and home that is limitless extension of our dreams and aspirations as a human, as a woman.
I have a thousand stories to tell, those heard and those unheard, those spoken and those not… but more on that later! This was just a peep into what a profession in Home Science can engulf generally. The limitless scope that it offers is hard to explain in one write up! But I would just end with a line that a professor had told me at a Conference where we were discussing Global Media Content and Journalism: “You are one of the most proud Home Scientist I have ever met!” Indeed I am. Because, I don’t want to fall in trap of the name, I want to shout out loud and create that ripple for a bigger broader wider change to happen!
Our journey after all as a woman doesn’t start or end with a degree or two. It is a process, a step-by-step process of developing from a girl to a woman to a human. My Current situation is this:
Situation 5: At a family function
"Beta, so what are you studying right now?"
" Traveling to villages and cities in US, Nepal, Sri Lanka & India for data collection of grassroots media looking at the policy, gender, impact on development indictors, global comparison."
" What? But i thought you did something in Home Science.. Did you change your field?"
"No Uncle, I am a proud Home Scientist, specializing in Development Communication & Social Work"
----------

Saturday 15 March 2014

क्या कहूं

मूक शब्द
पृथ्वी यह स्तब्ध
दुनिया अकेली
सुलझी पहेली
सुनसान शोर
रांझा चितचोर
झूठी सचाई
अनदेखी परछाई
अनसुनी कहानी
ताज़ा पुरानी
सच सपने
पराये अपने
लाल यह बेरंग
सवाल जवाब के संग
रूखे भाव
दबे उठे पॉव


क्या कहूं
चिलाती चुप मैं रहूँ?

- Diary of an Oxymoron 

कुछ भी …..

बेचैन होना भी एक नशा है
कभी चख के देखो तोह ज़रा
चैन मिलता है जब कुछ पल के लिए
जान निकल जाती है!

कुछ भी ---------------

कहानियां कई हैं
इस बंजर ज़मीन में हुई दबी
खोदने कि हिम्मत चाहिए
खज़ाना मिलना फिर दूर कहाँ

कुछ भी ---------------

कहानियोंकी जुबां की
होती नहीं कोई भाषा 
सुनो तोह उन्हें ध्यान से
डूबने के लिए क्या ज़रुरत किसी शब्द कि 

कुछ भी ---------------

आज सुनी जो है कहानी 
तुमने मेरी मूक ज़ुबानी 
काम न भले आये अभी 
सोच में दाल देगी आगे कभी 

कुछ भी ---------------

कहीं दूर जब 
किसी रानी की
कोई सुनान रात।

क्या ऐसे शुरू हुई थी कोई तुम्हारी बात?

Wednesday 12 March 2014

परचाहियां

परचाहियां जैसे हैं साथ नहीं छोड़ती
शायद ऐसे ही हैं कुछ अजीब पल चल रहे मेरे साथ
घनघोर कर देते हैं जब आते हैं दिन में याद
और सूनी कर देते हैं हर अँधेरी रात

कभी सोचती हूँ कि क्या रौशनी में भी
होता है ऐसा अजीब सा सूनापन
कि हर बात लगने लगती है अजीब
और हर शब्द कर देता है विचलित यह मन

अँधेरा उजाला, सब हो जाये जब एक सामान
तब सुन्न हो जाते हैं एहसास
क्या तब लालसा होती है बदलाव की?
क्या होती है शोर कि प्यास?

क्या चाहिए तुझे?
बता भी दे मुझे आज
इस उधेड़बुन का ओः अन्वेषक
है क्या सही इलाज?

- Diary of an Oxymoron 

Sunday 9 March 2014

बेड़ियां

जकड़े हुए जो हैं बेड़ियां मेरे इन क़दमों को
क्या इस दुनिया कि हैं बनाई
या फिर खलल हैं मेरे ही मस्तिष्क का
जो मैंने हस्ते हस्ते अपने क़दमों को हैं पहनाई

- Diary of an Oxymoron 

दुआ भी मैं, दवा भी मैं

ज़ख्म को खुला रहने दो
दवाई कैसे रास्ता ढूंढ पायेगी
ज़ख्म भरेगा या बढ़ेगा
पता चलेगा, दवा कितनी रास आएगी

वोह दवा भी क्या दवा जो दर्द न दे
कड़वाहट में भी भरने का मज़ा है
जल्दी अगर त्याग दिया उसे
समझोगे वोह किसी कर्म कि सज़ा है

पर मलहम भी जब रास न आये
कोई दुआ जब काम न दे
ज़ख्म को वक़्त की देदो पनाह
देखो कैसे समय आराम न दे

दुआ भी मैं, दवा भी मैं,
समय का खेल है यह निराला
जिस मलहम की चाह में हम सारा जग निकले
उसे ही ज़ख्म यह जीवन का दे डाला

- Diary of an Oxymoron 

Saturday 8 March 2014

सही- गलत

सब कहते हैं मैं हूँ गलत
पर क्या किसी से यह है जाना
शायद मेरे गलत होने का
सही नजरिया नहीं उन्होंने है पहचाना

-Diary of an Oxymoron 

माइरा है इसका नाम

चुलबुली सी है वो चंचल
शैतानी करती वोह पल पल

चुपके से है यूँह चली आती
कोयल सा है गाना गाती

हस्ती है तोह फूल हैं खिलते
रोती है तोह मोती मिलते

फुदक फुदकती, घर में लपकती
ज़ुखाम में उसकी नाक है टपकती

बिना पूरी करे एक कहानी
शुरू कर देती है एक और सुनानी

आखें हैं जैसे तारामंडल
खुशियां वोह फैलाती पल पल

दादू की बाबा, नानू कहते हैं बेटे
मम्मी कि है जो नन्नू, सबकी खुशियां रहे समेटे

सबकी इस छोटी सी दुनिया को करते हैं हम सलाम
माइरा है जिसका नाम, माइरा है इसका नाम 

युग बीत गया

क्या गलत है, क्या सही
तुम जान न सके, जाना मैंने भी नहीं
पर इस जान्ने पहचानने के असमंजस में
क्षण निकल गया, युग बीत गया शायद कहीं

- Diary of an Oxymoron 

Friday 7 March 2014

अक्षरों में जो न समां पाये

एक बादल कुछ अजीब सा
सर के ऊपर है छाया
न जाने कैसे वोह बना इतना विशाल
न जाने कैसे खंघोर हुआ उसका साया

कुछ लव्ज़ अटके हुए हैं मेरे इस संगीत में
नहीं करने देते कथन को पूरा
क्या रुक जाऊं जब तक नहीं मिल जाता सही अंत?
या फिर छोड़ दूं इस असमंजस को अधूरा?

लिखते लिखते हूँ रुक जाती
चलते चलते थम जाती हूँ मैं कहीं
आधी कहानी जब लाये आक्रोश कि ज्वाला
कहीं खो जाती हूँ एक दम से वहीँ

कभी आंसू साथ नहीं देते
और कभी हसी ही नहीं है रूकती
जब चेहरे पे हो ख़ुशी सुहानी दिखती
दिल की हर नस है कहीं न कहीं दुखती

अक्षरों में जो न समां पाये
वोह एहसास हर वक़्त है याद रहता
थम जाए कहीं ये वोह कहानी कहाँ
क्युंकि हर मनोभाव यहाँ है दरिया कि तरह बहता

कौन रोक पायेगा, इस मूक तूफ़ान को?

-Diary of an Oxymoron 

Tuesday 4 March 2014

वोह एक प्याली चाय

बैठे हों जब हम यारों के साथ
या फिर कहीं किसी कमरे में अकेले
याद बन जाती है हर एक बात
हो अगर वोह एक प्याली चाय

कभी शरीर के बिखरे हुए हिसों को है देती राहत
कभी दिमाग का हर एक कोना है जगाती
दवाई बन जाती है कुछ लम्हों के बाद
हो अगर वोह एक प्याली चाय

किसी पहाड़ पे हों बैठे हम
या किसी कमरे में ले रहे हों बारिश का मज़ा
इतिहास बन्न जाती है चाहे हो थोड़ी कम
हो अगर वोह एक प्याली चाय

फिर भले ही बाटना पड़े किसी के साथ
या फिर बिमारी में खुद ही बना कर हो पीनी
देती है साथ सुबह हो या दिन, शाम हो या रात
हो अगर वोह एक प्याली चाय

माँ के हाथ का प्यार
या फिर उस ठेले वाले का हो कमाल
अनजान के साथ करवाती है पहचान
हो अगर वोह एक प्याली चाय

किसी को चीनी चाहिए कम
कोई लेता है कड़क पन के साथ
स्वाद का एहसास बन्न जाती है हर दम
हो अगर वोह एक प्याली चाय

दुःख में, सुख में
दिन हो या रात
मेरे लिए हर पल है जग जाता
हो अगर वोह एक प्याली चाय

-Diary of a PhD Scholar 

Sunday 2 March 2014

उम्मीद

एक छोटी सी अलमारी में
एक एक करके संजोया था हर खवाब
कुछ हो गए जो पूरे, सम्भाला उन्हें भी
जो थे अधूरे, वोह रोज़ करते थे बेताब

अलमारी भले ही थी छोटी
थी मुझे बहुत ही प्यारी
इस अनजान दुनिया और लोगों के बीच
लगती थी मुझे वोह मेरी दुनिया सारी

फिर धीरे धीरे उसमें जमा हुआ आवंछित सामान
खोये जा रहे थे सपने सुहाने
क्या अलमारी लगने लगी थी छोटी ?
या लगने लगे थे कपडे सब पुराने?

शायद था वोह आवंछित सामान भारी
खाये जा रहा था उसके अंदर कि निर्मलता
या फिर शायद खोखली थी उसकी खुद कि लकड़ी
जोह नहीं समझ पायी सपनो कि सरलता

सुंदरता से जब लिया रूप उसने भयानक
काटने लगी हर एक चीज़
सपने तोह शायद खो ही गए थे
टूटते दरवाज़े करने लगे थे शोर अजीब

फिर जब आया एक भयानक भूकम्प
माप लिया उस अलमारी कि मज़बूती
देह गई कुछ पल में जैसे हो कोई लेहर
और ले गई संग हर उम्मीद वोह झूठी

जब खोखली हुई दीवारें,
सपनों का रंग पढ़ा फीका
जाना हमने कि जी रहे थे एक झूठ
शायद ज़िंदगी को और समझने का यह था एक तरीका

आगे बढ़ने कि कोशिश करनी थी कठिन
पर उम्मीद नहीं थी छोड़नी
फिर एक अलमारी बनाने का सोचा
फिर एक सपना सजाने का सोचा

पर इस बार ध्यान देना था ज़रूरी
फिर ठोकर नहीं खानी थी न
पर आगे क्या होगा किसने है देखा
बढे हम क्युंकि, जीवन कि गाडी चलनी थी न

उम्मीद अभी भी है जगी हुई
पर पुरानी अलमारी का गम भी है ज़िंदा
न जाने कब फिर खुलेगा ये पिंजर मन
न जाने कब मुक्त होगा यह परिंदा

-Diary of an Oxymoron 

अधूरी कहानी

सालों बीत जातें हैं किसी कहानी को हुए ख़तम
फिर भी ठहरा रहता है पल यहीं कहीं
लम्हे जैसे साथ नहीं छोड़ना चाहते हों दामन का
जैसे अभी और कुछ बचा है उन पन्नों पे लिखना 

देवी कहो या डायन

देवी कहो या डायन
नाम सभी हैं मेरे
इंसान नहीं समझा तोह क्या समझा
और फिर संस्कारों कि दुहाई देते हो?