...islands in the stream

Something reminded me of this chance-encounter which had happened more than 3-decades back. I had recorded it in some other context 5 years later...

so dug it up today... (going through old diaries throws up new insights about oneself :)

This is an excerpt from a long post dated 3/4/'80 in a diary - more a letter than a diary-entry then... it had another personal context

"...It was the late evening of 7th Nov '74. I was sitting on my hold-all on the Kathgodam station, waiting for the train, which would take me to Lucknow. There was still some time for the train to come to the platform, and there was the last page left in my diary which contained my experiences of love, disaster and recuperation... I took out the diary. I wanted to complete it before I leave Kathgodam and Nainital, and reach and start anew in Lucknow.

I was flipping through the pages when I heard a voice addressing me. It wa a small boy, begging me for two rupees. He was wearing a khaki knicker and half-sleeve shirt, which was half outside his belt. His hair were dishevelled, and his eyes were genuine and hopeful.

Why do you need money, I asked him. he wanted ot buy a notebook for his study. I asked him about his parents. The mother was dead, and the father was a sweeper.

He repeated his request. I felt that I had humiliated him by asking questions. I gave him two rupees and he ran off.

I looked at his fleeting figure, and suddenly, I was out there - looking at this encounter beween me and a faceless, nameless kid...

(I was born in Lucknow - the youngest son of a government officer. In May '74, my father was posted in Nainital... In the last week of Oct, my father had fallen ill and I had to rush back to Nainital, escorting my mother.I had intended to return to Lucknow on the 4th, but had fallen ill, and had to postpone my return journey)

...From the event of my birth to the postponement of my return journey to Nov 7th, countless event had transpired to force this encounter between me and this kid. It had turned out important for me (considering that I still recall and record it even now, more than five years after it happened). Maybe it also contributed to his life.. Maybe!... I'll never know...

And as I watched this encounter, I could see the arbitrary-ness of the whole episode, irrespctive of its value. The image of islands in the stream floated before my mind - and touched and got transfixed upon the core of my being...

...and so, human relationships became a product of spatio-temporal proximity, bound within a zone of probability; friendships became the sociometric cliques; and love became a hypothetical construct...

... It was an important 'critical incidence' of growing-up - though, it took me some more years to discover that there is so much meaning and richness in that "arbitrary-ness" of life's unfolding... in those moments when the islands in the stream touch each other in a random encounter....

Splinters...

From the hindsight of a 55+, this 20+ romantic was perhaps taking a stock of his life and relationships - past, present and unfolding then - (as he has kept on doing since then) as he was moving to another stage in life...

Those were emotionally turbulent times, when one had to deal with so many changes happening in one's life... one's own growing sensibilities; (clumsily) grappling to take ownership of one's relationships; coming to terms with becoming "adult"; trying to define the meaning of life, love and ideology for living; dealing with the excitement and trepeditions about a future which was to unfold (for which one was frankly ill-equipped then)...

Amongst all those happenings in life then, these verses were written on 27/04/'76

To M...
When I was a child
I had carved a rainbow
of glassy dreams
It stretched from me to you
- or was that your image?
Then one day you came, and I said:
let us climb to the apex of our dream.
My dream was fragile,
and collapsed from the weight of our individual realities

And today when we meet,
the splinters of my colourful dreams
pierce our breath.
We look at and pass each-other
in nostalgic silence...

To A...
Do you remember!
...that glass-house of dreams
that we had built?
It had wings
and we used to fly...
Then one day a gush of breeze
brought us down.
Our palace of dreams
crashed on the rocks...
The splinters flew around
and got into our eyes.

Now, we look at each other
with distorted vision,
and our common memories
irritate our injured eyes!!

To you...
Do not say, love,
that I am surrounded
by glittering stars.
These are splinters
of my crushed up past.
They do not shine,
but reflect the moonshine,
you bring with yourself.

But do not approach me,
you'll bruise your sole.
Wait for me,
and I will reach you one day...

I am learning to fly!

Adios! Shantanu Banerjee... a friend, an amazing person

well.. as life goes on, one learns to say those final "good-byes"...

I had met Shantanu first time in early '90s, when he used to be with Telco (now Tata Motors); I had joined XL then... he used to come to take sessions in our MDPs at XL. I remember him as a warm "whole" person (dont know how else to articulate this)...

He left Jamshedpur and joined Pepsi... then headed the HR for other organisations (Electrolux, Bharti Airtel, Steria, etc.)... and off and on we kept in touch for one reason or the other...

I had known that he was the guitarist of his batch - but it was only when the '81 batch came down to XL for their "Silver Jubilee Reunion" in '06 - when I (and many other who were on the campus then) realised that here was a talent who could play 11 instruments with same ease sitting on the JLT... he just flowed!

Some months back someone had called up and had told me about his growing cancer - and it seemed surreal to believe - and yet one knew...

So, when yesterday afternoon, Shruti da's (his batchmate) call came from Blore to say that he will perhaps last another day or two, one just kept one's fingers crossed...

... and then early this morning's SMS said:
"Shantanu Banerjee passed away early today at Bangalore. His body is being brought to Kolkata for the final rites."

... well, that's how it will happen to all of us - one way or the other...

So Adios, Shantanu - it was good touching base with you when you were here...

God Speed and God Bless!...
you will remain one of those voices/lives, I will carry with me...

ऐसा भी तो हो सकता था...

Last evening, I had posted this pic on my photoblog, which I had taken on a beach of California... it was a romantic/nostalgic capture of a precious moment of some unknown lives which crossed mine...

While posting it, the caption/ a phrase "ऐसा भी तो हो सकता था..." cropped in my mind. Apparently it triggered something in mind - and so after almost two decades, today I penned-down/ keyed-in some verses...

So now I can claim that I am once-a-year-poet for last two years :)... the last one too, was stimulated by a phrase a year back - 'गर रहे सलामत ये पागलपन...

anyways... here are the random meanderings

ऐसा भी तो हो सकता था...

फिर एक हवा का झोंका आ कर मेरी यादों को छूता,
औ' बादल का एक टुकड़ा फिर से मेरे आँगन में रुकता
गाता फिर से वो राहगीर, जो एक समय साथी मेरा,
दिल रहता वही भिखारी, मेरा मन भी बंजारा रहता...

ऐसा भी तो हो सकता था...

वो बच्चा जो गिनता रहता, बूँदें बिजली के तारों पर,
कुछ सहमा-सा एकाकीपन जो खोज रहा छोटा सा घर,
उस जीवन के छितरे टुकड़े, जो कभी-कभी मिल जाते हैं,
'ग़र जी उठते वो खोये पल, तो फिर वो पागलपन होता..

ऐसा भी तो हो सकता था...

इक पगडंडी जो टूट गयी, इक राह कहीं पे छूट गयी,
कुछ रिश्ते आगे बढे नहीं, कुछ साथ चले पर चले गए,
ऐसे डगमग से जीवन में, लोगों से, यादों से सीखा
चलते रहना, चलते जाना - शायद जीवन यूँ ही बहता...

ऐसा भी तो हो सकता था...

गीत बन आई अधर पर, सोनजूही याद तेरी...

We met - first time - back in '72 (seems so long back - yet it feels as if it was just yesterday), when we connected in the University (Lucknow)...

some of my friends (some of them are not there now - or I can trace back) would recall him as "Santee Joe"

A poet by heart - an army man by vocation now... (life takes us to destinies where we never wanted to go in the first place - at least in our generation)

we still talk once in a while and I visited him almost decade back...
... being a chronicler of lives which crossed mine, has some advantages of recalling people who contributed to my growing-up...

गीत बन आई अधर पर
सोन-जूही याद तेरी...

शाम यूँ लहरा रही
मानों प्रणय की याचना में
मौन साधे -
गुनगुना दे
ज्यों कोई भाषा हृदय की...

छिप गई गहराइयों में
वेदना सी
डबडबाये नयन की अभिव्यक्ति अंतिम...

सांस में अंधड़ समेटे
चिर प्रतीक्षा में थके पग

राह पर फिर ठेलती सी
आंसुओं से लिख गयी वह
जो ना कह पायी अधर से
याचना प्यासे ह्रदय की....

जाने क्या सोच के ऐसा ना किया...

Looking back though a haze of memories, this song/lyrics by Jaan-Nisar-Akhtar gave meaning to many of us... as we (my co-travellers - Sumu, Lootu, Santee, Nuppa, etc.) were coming to terms with our newly-discovered sensuality/ libido in our early/mid-teens then...
...and these lyrics took those impulses/fantasies to another orbit... (Sigmund Freud be damned for calling it "sublimation" :0)

[I still recall the lyrics and the song, in my mind... but would still like to listen to it once again... Manna Dey...

प्यास थी फिर भी, तकाज़ा ना किया,
जाने क्या सोच के ऐसा ना किया...

बढ़ के हाथों में उठा लेना था,
तुझको सीने से लगा लेना था,
तेरे होठों से, तेरे गालों से,
मुझको हर रंग चुरा लेना था...
....जाने क्या सोच के ऐसा ना किया...

हाथ आँचल से जो टकरा जाता,
एक रंगीन नशा छा जाता,
तेरे सीने पे खुली जुल्फों को,
चूम लेता तो करार आ जाता...
....जाने क्या सोच के ऐसा ना किया...

दिन हसीं रात में ढल सकता था,
मेरा अरमान निकल सकता था,
तेरा मर्मर से तराशा ये बदन,
मेरे हाथों में पिघल सकता था...
....जाने क्या सोच के ऐसा ना किया...