...of Meena Kumari, Harlequin Complex and the "year of '72"

...that was when I was just 17yr old, back in '72!

... I was still trying to come to terms with my life (and with the vague awareness of a 'sense' of death/ that it will not last... was trying to grapple with the inconsequentiality of being/life, Harlequin Complex... with trying to be twice-born - a द्विज)...

...and that was when an idol, Meena Kumari (for me, and many of my other co-travellers) then - died. Gulzar came out with a book of her verses, and HMV with - I Write, I Recite

That spurred many poems from many of us then.
these were mine...
...as I used to sit idle on a chair in the varandah of B-52, Mahanagar, Lucknow, looking at the setting sun (thankfully, I had a family who let me "be" - though, not sure if I was allowed to 'be' me - by 'design' or by 'default'...not that it matters anymore :)

...in any case, these were the few verses from that year, that era...(recovered from from some old diaries)

--
शाम घिरती उदास राहों पर
मेरा सफ़र निढाल हो जाता
दूर से इक पुकार आती थी
वो भी खामोशियों में खो जाती
धुआं-धुआं-सा मेरी कायनात में घिरता
घुटी-घुटी-सी दरख्तों में कली मुरझाती
कफ़न में और मुझमें पास फासले होते
डरा-डरा सा ढूंढता हूँ अपनी परछाई

***
थका-थका सा बदन
कदम कुछ बुझे-बुझे से हैं
सांस भी बोझ बन कर
जम रही है सीने में...

...लग रहा जिस्म टूट-टूट बिखर जाएगा
कैसा माहौल है ये
बेसुरी ख़ामोशी है

उफ़! किसे ढो कर मैं लिए जा रहा हूँ
ज़िन्दगी की लाश है
या साँसों में जकड़ी मौत!

***
साँसे रह जाती सीने में
धुंधली सी ग़ज़ल बन कर
धड़कन भी बुझती सी तार छेड़ जाती है
जिस्म डूबता-सा है
दर्द भरी लहरों में
ज़िन्दगी एक कसक बन
रह जाती है दब कर...

शाम एक खामोश-सा
साया बन घिर आती...

...ऊबे हुए दायरों में
धुआं-धुआं छा जाता,
ख्वाब की खुमारी सा...

...तभी,
कोई नग्मा
रात की अंगड़ाई का
सूखे दरख्तों में कलियाँ पिरो देता...

और मैं हैरान सा
खोया-खोया
खोजता-खोजता
खुद ही खो जाता हूँ...

Remembering "me" - then and there..

Sometimes, I would like to go back in time and meet this person - an earlier "me"- who wrote these verses, when I was 21-yr old/young...


चिर-यज्ञ की समिधा-सा जलने को आतुर
एक वेदी ही तो मांगता हूँ,
या - अपना यज्ञ-कुंड भी, मुझको ही बनना होगा
अपनी ही अग्नि में, अपने ही कारण जलना होगा ||

शाम के सूरज की पिघलती परिधि-सा
मेरा अस्तित्व
पेड़ो की चोटी पर खिंचे,
सूरज के पीले पद-चिन्हों से
पूछ रहा पश्चिम का पथ...
..या अपने ही जीवन के अस्तांचल मैं
मुझको पिघलना होगा...

कितनी सीमाओं के केंद्र-बिंदु बिखर गए
धरती पर,
बांधते परिधियों में धरती अम्बरतल को,
लगता है रचना ये, बंट-बंट कर टुकड़ों में
बिखर-बिखर जायेगी...

...टूटे अस्तित्वों को,
बाहें फैला कर के
घेरे में भरना होगा...

कुछ सोच कर फिर, पाँव मेरे रुक गए...उल्टी दिशा में मुड़ चला|

There were 3 of us at one time - though (one of us not there anymore)... but we grew together,
and I grew with them...

I still remember the date - July 8, '70 - when we three met - by some quirk of fate -for the first time in Colvin College, Lucknow

For me that meeting became a long journey - a sort of journey to self-discovery in which we provided images to each other to chase/challenge/explore/...to find

...as we discovered our evolving selves...

This was poem, which in some ways blended with Siddhartha (the movie and the book), which I was growing up with then...

प्रेम का चंचल पवन
सुखमय सुवासित
और कुछ मदमत्त सा,
था चल पड़ा
पीड़ित उरों की टोह लेने के लिए|

देखे हमारे दो नयन
थे मूक, थे दयनीय
प्रेम छलक रहा था अथाह

उस मूक वाणी में कथा
वे
सब व्यथा की कह गए |

...सुन चल दिया तन
कुछ तुच्छ सा, कुछ हीन सा
समझा, स्वयं को रो पड़ा |

"आ, छाओं में कर ले शयन |"
कैसी मधुर आवाज़!
...मैं बढ़ता गया

कुछ सोच कर फिर
पाँव मेरे रुक गए,
उलटी दिशा में मुड़ चला |

[ps: not mine obviously (but written by one of us 3 who still is around...]

Of no account!...

...one keeps discovering one's roots... lines/verses which molded one's sensibilities to the nuances of those 'romatic'relationships, as one was growing up

I discovered this poem - of no account! - today (by someone called Mamta Chaudhry - don't know/remember where it was published), which I had jotted down in one of my diaries back in '74 (I must have been 19yrs than)

...but I can still resonate with her depth - and expression (as I must have, when I had scribbled down these verses)...

Last night I sat down,
to tabulate our love sheet..

You gave me:
Seven sidelong glances,
a magic walk in the rain,
the skylark in your hair,
the stars in your voice.
Many moth eaten moments...
A few misty promises.
intervals of interest,
before the curtains fell.

I gave you:
My out of focus sunsets,
the song which I could never sing.
the ritual of not caring,
that crumbled under your kisses,
that part of my mind
marked "No trespassers"

And in my will,
I left you the world
you still owe me:
A lifetime of loving,
a sorry you cannot say,
for being my tomorrow,
as you were my yesterday.

Reading it today after so many, many years, I could relate to me/us-then-in-that-time-and-era as we dealt with the issues of growing up... it had helped making sense of certain relationships then...

...though I really dont know if these verses resonate with those who occupy the space now...

रातों के साए घने...

long time back in '73.. I had asked a girl (who I had known during '62-'65, when we used to be in the same school) if she knew this song - she did and sang.. and so we became life-long friends... she became my मुह-बोली बहन, my soul-mate (we shared our bdays too)... later, she was a sort of "guardian" in Bhopal when I joined my first job (and we exchanged the roles a couple of years later, when she had her life-issues)...

...well, the Saturday-Night nostalgia :0)
as life goes on... and one remembers the people one grew up with who are not there around any more...