मूल्यांकन

जब जब करता हूँ अपना मूल्यांकन,
पाता हूँ अपने-आप को
समुन्द्र के किनारे पड़े
शैल की तरह।
आती हैं लहरें बार-बार,
और मेरी कठोरता पर
करती हैं अट्टाहास।
जानता हूँ
एक दिन रेत में तब्दील हो जाऊँगा मैं
इन बेलौस लहरों से टकराकर।
लेकिन मैं ये कैसे भूल जाऊँ
की ऊंची लहरें मुझसे टकरा कर
अपनी शक्ति क्षीण कर जाती हैं
बार-बार।

जब-जब करता हूँ अपना मूल्यांकन
पाता हूँ अपने-आप को
एक निर्जन टापू पर खड़े
पेड़ की तरह।
हर दुसरे पल आता है
समुंद्री तूफ़ान
और
मुझे घुटनें टेकने पर मजबूर कर
चला जाता है।
जानता हूँ,
एक दिन,
इन तूफानों से टकरा कर
अपने-आप को मिट्टी में मिला पाऊँगा।
लेकिन
मैं ये कैसे भूल जाऊँ
की
बार-बार आता तूफ़ान
मेरे पैरों को
और मजबूती दे जाता है
और
हर बार
लौट जाता है तूफ़ान
मेरी मजबूती देख कर।

जब-जब करता हूँ अपना मूल्यांकन
पाता हूँ अपने-आप को
नीलाभ की तरह।
एक क्रमिक अंतराल के बाद
सात घोड़ों पर सवार सूरज
छीन लेता है मेरी नीली चमक
और
दे जाता है मुझे
नि:स्तब्ध कालिमा।
लेकिन
मैं ये कैसे भूल जाऊँ
की
एक क्रमिक अंतराल के बाद ही
अपनी आत्मबल के बूते
मैं फिर पा लेता हूँ
अपनी नीली चमक।

सदियों से,
मुझे काल-कवलित करने का प्रयत्न
करती आ रही है प्रकृति
और बार-बार
अपनी सारी शक्ति बटोर
मैं देता आ रहा हूँ चुनौती
इन प्राकृतिक झंझावातों को।

-अमितेश

मैं, मेरी कविता

कभी ज़र्रा कभी आफताब
कभी आसमां कभी शबाब बना
अपनी कविता में।

कभी सागर कभी साहिल
कभी क़गार कभी धार बना
अपनी कविता में।

जब-जब याद आता था तुम्हारा साथ
जब-जब सताती थी तुम्हारी याद
कभी आंसू कभी लहू
कभी नगमें कभी साज़ बना
अपनी कविता में।

यु ही घूमना सड़कों पर बेवज़ह
अनजाने में छु जाना तेरे हाथ का
लड़ना बेबात की बातों पर हमारा
याद कर हर बार
कभी कसमे कभी वादें
कभी वफ़ा कभी बेवफा बना
अपनी कविता में।

घंटों बैठे रहना आसमां को तकते
चुप बैठ कर भी बातें करना आंखों से
फिर नज़रें चुराना एक दुसरे से
और भरना आहें अकले में
कभी परिंदें कभी कलियाँ
कभी इन्सां कभी खुदा बना
अपनी कविता में।

रात भर तुम्हारी बातें करना चाँद से
निहारते रहना रस्ते तेरे घर के
खो जाना तेरी याद, तेरी सपनों में
सितारों भरे असमान के तले
यूं ही
कभी जुगुनू, कभी खुशबू
कभी नज़्म, कभी बज्म बना
अपनी कविता में।

- अमितेश

Moral Science V/S Civic Sense

When I was in school, probably in middle school, we were having a subject called Moral Science. That time it was the subject which I really relished reading. Not because I really was understanding the meaning of Moral that time but because the book on this subject was having a lot of stories in it. Though today even after stressing much on my mind, I could not be able to recollect any of the stories of that book. What I could remember is that every story was ending with some message.
Why I am remembering this now after about 20 years? The reason lies in today’s incident which I witnessed.
While waiting for a traffic signal to show green light, a man came bolted from behind on a scooter. He was having his 4 – 5 year old kid standing at the front foot panel of the scooter. The signal was still red. He slowed his scooter near the stop line for a moment, and on the spur of the moment accelerated the scooter, broke the traffic signal, cross the square and eloped in seconds. Violation of traffic rule is not something which will remind you of the Moral Science studies during your school. Its very common thing now a days. But violation of traffic rule while your 4 – 5 year old kid is accompanying you is something which actually had reminded me of Moral Science. It is said that “Home is kids’ first school and parents are first teachers”. Then is this what a father is teaching his son? Violation of traffic rules, according to me, is a matter of habit. If someone is breaking it once, he has the courage to break it again and is definitely would be breaking it regularly as if these silly traffic signal don’t exists in their world and are trivial. That kid saw his father breaking traffic rule and no body stopping him, would build courage in him of crossing the traffic signal like his father did, when he would grow up. Would then we be able to expect that kid to become a true citizen of the nation called India? And do we really have any right to complain for things not going in system in our country? Isn’t this unsystematic system has somewhere be appreciated and taught by us to our children, the future citizen of our country.
This is not only in case of violation of traffic rule, but connotes to lot of other activities which would lead to the violation of Civil Rights of the Citizen. Be it not giving place to a lady while traveling in some public transport system or honking like mad and waiting for the roads to widen up just because of continuous honking. Or not slowing down the vehicle while passing through some school or hospital. Or spiting anywhere in the world. Or throwing garbage on roads while keeping own home neat and clean. Or rash driving, like roads of the world belongs to us and only us.
I think, Moral Science itself is not much for the people to let understand their responsibilities as a true citizen of country। After all, if this subject would have been that much effective, we would not have seen such unpleasant things happening around us.

I think, like Sex Education, we should have to introduce CIVIC SENSE as a subject in our schools syllabus. This probably would teach a father to be feared while violating any Civic Responsibilities, as his kid would be watching it.

Development...!!!

Development is the need of time. It was development which brought mankind to recent epoch of Pentium from Old Stone Age via Stone Age, Bronze Age, and Indus Valley etc.
And with the invention of Wheel, the wheel of development started rotating. Now that we came way ahead of the Old Stone Age, its time to look back and see what actually we, the humankind had lost, in the course of development.
I was talking to one of the old man belonging to the developing rural face of India. He was not particularly euphoric with the developments going on in his village. Concrete roads were being built in his village and he was not happy. I was surprised to hear that the old people of his village don’t want concrete roads within the village. They want same boggy roads there. I asked the reason why he particularly is not happy with the concrete roads. Doesn’t he know that to let the “Wheels of Development” rolling, his village does need good roads?
He said, “There was time when our well had always been filled with water. And why only his well, all the wells in his village had always been filled with water. The reason was wellspring. In his village, well is the main source of water”.
Now that government is making roads, spreading a web of sewage lines in his village, the water level in their well has started going down. Even a lot of well had dried. Reason being, due to concrete roads and sewage system, all the rain water flow of the village and goes to the nearby river. This has lead to the deepening of water table and in turn had lead to the dryness of wellspring.
And till the time I was literally laughing on this old man because of his orthodox thought of being against the development. Now actually I had started feeling embracement from within. How true. Development sometimes enhances the superficial face only, by hurting the inner soul.
Did our government had visualized this potential problem of deepening of water table in villages due to the massive urbanization and making a web of roads in the process of enhancing the connectivity. Don’t we really need not only development but “Smart Development”?
Otherwise, that day is not far ahead when like Indian Cheetah, Dodo and many likes, Water will also be heard only in stories.

अन्वेन्षण

बार-बार तलाशा मैंने,
अपने आप को तुम में,
बार-बार तुम्हारी "फेन सी सफ़ेद आंखों" से
झांका तुम्हारे दिल में,
शायद एक कोना हो मेरे लिए,
शायद अपनी सारी दुनिया को समेटे अपने आप में,
मिल जाऊ,
तुम्हारे दिल के किसी स्याह-से कोने में।
पर तुमने अपनी आँखें भींच लिए।
शायद मुझे छुपाना चाहती थी,
मेरी ख़ुद की नजरो से,
शायद!

समय की मुट्ठी से वक्त का एक टुकड़ा छिटका
मुझे तुम्हारी फेन-सी सफ़ेद आंखों में
दिखा एक मरीचिका
कुछ-कुछ मुझसे मिलता-सा,
या शायद मैं ही था
तुम्हारी फेन-सी सफ़ेद आंखों में।
तुमने फिर अपनी आँखें भींच लिए
कस कर,
तुम्हारा यह प्रयास,
मुझे अपने में छुपाने का था
या
मुझे मुझसे ही चुराने का,
नहीं जानता।
पर,
मुझे अपने-आप में समेट लेने की
तुम्हारी कोशिश
बार-बार मेरे वजूद को बताती है
तुम्हारे भीतर।
मैं शायद
हूँ तुममे कहीं तुम्हारे भीतर।
पर क्यों
मैं ढूंढ़ नहीं पा रहा
अपने-आप को तुममें,
क्यों!!
क्यों, अपने-आप को छुपाती हो मुझसे,
क्यों मुझे छुपाती हो, अपने-आप से!
क्यों नहीं देखने देती,
अपने ह्रदय के भीतर
अपनी फेन-सी सफ़ेद आंखों से।

चाहता हूँ तुम्हारा एक हिस्सा बनू,
नितांत तुम्हारा हिस्सा!
चाहता हूँ लोग तुझ में मुझे,
मुझ में तुम्हें तलाशें।
चाहता हूँ एकाकार हो जाएँ
तुम-हम, हम-तुम

क्यों चुप हैं
तुम्हारी फेन-सी सफ़ेद आँखें,
क्यों कुछ प्रतिक्रिया नहीं देती,
कुछ बोलती क्यों नहीं
तुम्हारी फेन-सी सफ़ेद आँखें!

-अमितेश

A New India Everyday

India, a country or rather a subject that fascinates me the most. One can itinerant miles along the length and breadth of the country to see and discover India. One can dig the monuments and history behind it to understand India. Or you can simply be in your city and see the vividness of India and experience a new India everyday.

And I am experiencing a new India everyday, without traveling miles in kilo terms. An India within the City. A big India in small village. Or even a new India in a small colony.

The name of one such colony is Ram Nagar. Plausibly you would not find the name of this colony even in micro map of the city. But yes this colony exist, life rocks here, this colony would be chipping in to the GDP of India may be in nano terms.
A small colony situated on the either side of railway track with hovel and concrete houses. This colony is being lived by people belonging to the lower strata of the economics but having maximum utility to the nation. That was evening time when just while going back to my house, I took that road to understand the city better. Since last two days it was not raining. So the city had got chance to dry itself to get prepared for next round of rain. Small kids were playing on either sides of track. A lot of mosquitos were hovering over the head of each kid. Don’t they care about the diseases that these mosquitoes can give them! Who cares?
There were infants who just had learned sitting were smiling over their mothers talking to other ladies. These infants were sitting on the mat outside their hovel putting everything in their mouth that is coming to their little hand. How these ladies are upbringing their kids. Isn’t keeping their kids such a way outside the house would invite lot of diseases to the infant! But who cares?
I was mesmerized seeing very different lives of people. My engrossment broke when a loud sound of music had started. Hearing this all the kids playing ran in the direction of the music and stopped in front of a small concrete house. These kids started dancing carelessly as if this is one of their routine work and they don’t care if some one is noticing them or not. There some marriage band group was practicing.
I moved ahead along the railway track to see some older kids sitting on the track and talking to each other. Aren’t they concern about their career or studies! Do these growing kids really care about these things?
Then there were some drunkards wandering here and there on road. As if they don’t care if their kids had come back to home from their school or their kids had taken the food properly or not, or are they aware of their wives expectations from them?

This is the face of probably 1/3rd of India, which actually is the back bone of our GDP part which is being governed by the infrastructure or agriculture sector.

कहानी अभी अधूरी है...

कभी कभी अतीत के झरोखों से झाकते हुए कुछ ऐसे झरोखे दिख जाते हैं जो अपने पार कुछ सुनहरी यादों की चमकीली रोशनी दिखा जाते हैं। ऐसी रोशनी जो कभी चेहरे पर पड़ कर आंखों में चमक सी पैदा कर जाती है।
सुनहरी यादें, हां वो सुनहरे पल ही तो थे जो आज अरसे बाद मेरी आंखों में फिर से उस चमक को लौटा लाये थे।

अपनी अतीत के पन्ने पलटते हुए अचानक ही एक पन्ना मेरे हाथों में आ गया और वह पन्ना, अतीत का पन्ना साथ ले आया कुछ सुनहरी यादें। उस पन्ने में दिख गयी उस पगली की आकृति और उसके साथ गुजारे गए मेरे कुछ अच्छे पल। हां, पागल ही तो थी वो। अपनी धुन में मगन। न किसी से कुछ लेना-देना, न किसी से कोई मतलब। लेकिन उसकी उपस्थिति हर किसी के चेहरे पर एक सुनहरी मुस्कान फैला जाती। हमेशा उसके पास कोई सवाल होता जिसका जवाब तो शायद किसी के पास नहीं होता पर सोचते सभी थे उसके सवाल पर। यह जानते हुए भी की सोचने के बाद भी जवाब नहीं दे पायेंगे उसे।

अक्सर हम दोनों घंटो बैठा करते साथ-साथ। अपनी धुन में मगन वो बस पूछती रहती मुझसे और मैं मुस्कराता, खेलता रहता उसके सवालों के साथ। अक्सर कहा करती, मुझे तुम्हारे पास बैठना अच्छा लगता है। मैं भी कैसे इनकार करता की मुझे भी उसका साथ अच्छा लगता है। कह नहीं सकता की मेरे मन मैं उसके प्रति कुछ भावनाएं थी भी या नहीं। पर हां जगह तो थी उसकी मेरे मन के किसी स्याह से कोने में। उसने तो अपना पूरा विश्वास ही जैसे मुझे दे डाला था। मैंने भी कभी उसकी पवित्र आस्था के साथ खिलवाड़ करने की कोशिश नहीं की थी। बस बातें करता उससे। समझने की कोशिश करता उसे। लेकिन हर बार नाकाम ही होता था। शायद तब ही जान पाया था की कितना मुश्किल है एक लड़की को समझना।

वो तब आयी थी मेरे जीवन में जब शायद मेरी ज़िन्दगी जीने की जिजीविषा ख़त्म सी हो गयी थी।आज भी याद आती है उसकी आँखे जो मुझमे ज़िंदा रहने का जज़्बा पैदा कर जाती थी। उसकी बच्चो सी हंसी जैसे मेरे जीवन के खामोश तारो में सरगम पैदा कर जाती। हंसते समय अक्सर उसकी आँखों में पानी की एक महीन परत जम जाती थी और मैं तो बस उस पानी की महीन परत में अपने आप को डूबता-सा महसूस करने लगता। कैसे कह दू की मेरे भीतर भावनाए नहीं थी उसके लिए। हां, उन भावनाओं को आज भी परिभाषित कर पाना मुश्किल है शायद।

उसके सानिध्य में जो एक लगाव, एक अपनेपन की गर्मी थी उसे शायद मैं आजन्म नहीं भूल सकता। कई दफा अनजाने में उसका छु जाना, इत्तफाकन उसकी सांसों को महसूस करना, मेरी नज़रों का अचानक ही उसके चेहरे पर जम सा जाना, आज भी याद करके पुरे शरीर मैं एक झुनझुनाहट-सी पैदा हो जाती है। उन लम्हों में उसके चेहरे पर अचानक ही बदल आते भाव मुझे एक पल को उसके और करीब आ जाने को उत्साहित कर जाते। पर नजदीकी कहीं उसे मुझसे दूर न कर दे ऐसा सोच कर मैं अदृश्य-सी मर्यादा को पार करने की चेष्टा भी नहीं कर पाता था।

हां याद है मुझे जब मैंने उसे प्यार से "प्रीतू" कह कर पुकारा था और जैसे वह इसी एक नाम के लिए अरसे से तरस रही थी। इतना भा गया था उसे यह नाम की हमेशा वह इस इंतज़ार में रहती की मैं उसे प्रीतू कह कर पुकारू और वह उस पल को जी भर कर जी ले।
याद है मुझे जब पहली बार उसने मुझे "साहब" कह कर पुकारा था। कैसे भूल सकता हूँ उसके चहरे पर अचानक ही बदल आये भावों को जब-जब वह मुझे साहब कह कर पुकारती। जीने की तो मैं भी पुरजोर कोशिश करता था उन लम्हों को जब वह मुझे अपने दिए गए नाम से पुकारा करती।

नहीं जानता आज अचानक उसके साथ के सुनहरे पल की याद मेरे जहन में कैसे आ गयी। नही जानता उसे भी आज याद आती है या नहीं अपने अतीत की जो शायद उसके भी सुनहरे अतीत थे। पर मुझे आज भी याद है वो शाम जब शायद हम हमेशा के लिए एक-दुसरे से जुदा होने जा रहे थे, एक ही राह पर चलते हुए पर बिलकुल ही जुदा मंजिल की ओर। याद है मुझे जब वो मेरे इतने करीब बैठी थी उस शाम की उसके रोएं मेरे दिल में एक चुभन पैदा कर रही थी और मेरे दिल की धड़कने वह अपने सीने में महसूस कर रही थी।

उसकी जिन आँखों में झांकना हमेशा मुझे भाता था, आज उन्ही आँखों से नज़र मिलाने की हिम्मत मुझमे नहीं आ रही थी। जिन आँखों में अक्सर हंसते वक़्त पानी की एक महीन परत जम जाया करती थी उन्ही आँखों में उस शाम फिर मैंने पानी की एक महीन परत देखी। पर काफी झाँकने के बाद भी हंसी का नामों-निशान नहीं दिख पा रहा था। उसकी आँखों में जम आयी पानी की वो महीन परत जैसे सात जहान के समुन्दर के पानी से भी ज्यादा थे। अपने आपको जैसे सँभालते हुए उसने फिर से एक ऐसा सवाल पूछा था जिसका जवाब न शायद मेरे पास था ना ही उसके पास - "साहब क्या हम आजन्म साथ नहीं रह सकते!"
प्रीतू नहीं जानता मैं यह संभव है या नहीं, हां इतना ज़रूर कह सकता हूँ की हम आजन्म एक-दूसरे की यादों, सुनहरी यादों के साथ रह सकते हैं।
हर बार वह इसी एक सवाल को मुझसे अलग-अलग अंदाज़ में पूछती रही उस शाम और मैं एक ही लहजे में एक ही जवाब उसे दे पाया। उसके इस सवाल का जवाब न तब मेरे पास था ना आज ही मेरे पास है।
तब चुपके से उसने अपने दुपट्टे से कागज़ का एक कोरा-सा टुकड़ा निकाल कर मेरी ओर बढा दिया था और कहा था - "साहब इस पर तुम्हारी प्रीतू की सारी अवयक्त भावनाए लिखी हैं, पढ़ सकते हो तो पढ़ लेना।"

वो कोरा-सा कागज़ का टुकड़ा आज भी मेरे पास है जिसे इन अरसो में कई दफा पढने की कोशिश की मैंने। लेकिन कुछ भी पढ़ पाने में सक्षम नहीं हो पाया। हां, जब-जब पढने की चेष्टा की मैंने, मेरी आँखों में पानी की महीन परत जम आयी।
आज फिर से वही पानी की महीन परत मेरे आँखों में आ गयी और धुंधलाते से मेरे सुनहरे पल, उसके साथ के पल, बिखर से आये, मेरी आँखों के सामने...!

- अमितेश

आत्म मंथन

जब फासले तय करते करते
पैर लम्हों में उलझने से लगते हैं
जब दूर क्षितिज को छूते-छूते
आंखों में पानी सागर से उमड़ने लगते हैं
जब अपरिचितों से मिलते-मिलते
रिश्ते अपनी पहचान खोने लगते हैं,
मैं थका-सा महसूस करता हूँ
अपनी ज़िन्दगी से।

जब आंखों के नीर
सैलाब बन उमड़ने लगते हैं
जब ह्रदय की शिराये
संकुचित हो सिमटने लगते हैं
जब सांसों की रफ़्तार
चलते-चलते बहकने लगते हैं
मैं थका-सा महसूस करता हूँ
अपनी ही ज़िन्दगी से।

जब मेरी अपनी अभिलाषाएं
अपनी मर्यादा का उल्लंघन करने लगती हैं
जब मेरे अपने सपने
मेरी सोंच का दामन झटकने लगती हैं
जब मेरी भावनाएं
मेरे पहलू से बिखरने लगती है
मैं जमा सा महसूस करता हूँ
अपनी ही ज़िन्दगी में।

नहीं जानता क्या कहते हैं इस अवस्था को
जानता तो हूँ बस यही
की यह अवस्था है
खुद में बसे "मैं" को जानने की
अपने आप हीं से, अपने को रू-ब-रू करने की.

- अमितेश

प्यार करोगी ना!

जब मेरी सफलता, मेरे जीवन की स्थिरता से
फासले भर की दूरी पर थम जायेगी
जब मेरे जीवन में एक ठहराव-सा आ जायेगा
तब भी तुम मुझसे प्यार करोगी ना!

जब मेरी आंखे जहाँ के सात रंगों के परे
धुंधलके को महसूस करने लगेगी
जब मेरी सांसों में वो ताज़गी नही रह जायेगी
तब भी तुम मुझसे प्यार करोगी ना!

जब मेरे विश्वास भरे क़दमों में
एक असुरक्षा की भावना आ जायेगी
जब मेरी राहें बिन मंजिल बहने लगेगी
तब भी तुम मुझसे प्यार करोगी ना!

जब मेरे चेहरे की ताज़गी
अनचाही झुर्रिओं में छिपने लगेगी
जब मेरी वही नशीली आँखें, कोरी-सी लगने लगेगी
तब भी तुम मुझसे प्यार करोगी ना!

जब दुनिया की वो भीड़
मुझसे अपना मुँह मोड़ने लगेगी
जब मैं जहाँ से अलग-सा होने लगुंगा
तब भी तुम मुझसे प्यार करोगी ना!

युहीं!
जब मेरी धड़कने
मेरा साथ छोड़ने लगेगी
जब मेरी सांसें थमी-थमी सी बहने लगेगी
प्रिया
तब भी तुम मुझसे प्यार करोगी ना!

- अमितेश

बचपन

शाम के धुंधलके में
खिड़की से बाहर झांकते हुए
देखता हूँ बादल के मासूम टुकड़े को
आपस में अठखेलिया करते हुए।
शायद मैंने भी खेली होगी अठखेलिया ऐसे ही
अपने बचपन के दिनों में।
याद आता है बचपन, मेरा बचपन
और तलाशता हूँ अपने बचपन को
बादलों के उन मासूम से टुकडो में
खिड़की से बाहर झांकते हुए।

फूलों का भंवरो के ताल पे मटकना
चिडियों का बेबात की बातों पर चहकना
अस्त होते सूरज की किरणों का
डूबते हुए भी ना जाने क्या मेरे चहरे पर तलाशना
न जाने क्यों
खिंच ले जाता है मुझे
मेरे अतीत में।

कागज़ के नाव पर,
बरसाती पानी में
न जाने कितने जहाँ की सैर की थी मैंने
शायद समुन्दर भी न दे पाए वो रास्ता
दुनिया देखने के लिए।

सर्दी की सर्द रातों में रजाई के भीतर दुबक कर
न जाने कितनी परियो से बात की थी
झींगुरों की ताल और जुगनू की रोशनी में
न जाने कितने स्वप्न लोक घूम आया था मैं।

गर्मी की रातों में
आसमान की ओर मुँह कर के
न जाने कितने नक्षत्र लोक में गया था मैं
सितारों के साथ
चाँद की किरणों पर सवार हो कर।

वो बचपन, मेरा मासूम बचपन
तब शायद मैंने ज्यादा देखी थी दुनिया
ख्वाबो की दुनिया।

खिड़कियाँ तो आज भी मेरे घर की उधर ही खुलती हैं
पर क्यो बदल गया है मौसम
खिड़की के बाहर का!
या शायद,
वक्त के साथ मुझमे,
खिड़की के भीतर के हालातों में ही
बदलाव आ गया है!
- अमितेश

Wake Up Or Its Never Be Tomorrow...

Yesterday, I was standing outside my Stockist Office talking on my cell phone. It was very pleasant evening. Small dapples of clouds were scattered here and there in the sky waiting to rejoin to wash the world clean. While I was talking on phone, a guy came near to me and stands there as if he was waiting for me to finish my talk on phone.
As I finished my talk, he came nearer to me and asked in Chattisgadhi language that he didn’t have had tea since morning and if I could give him a five rupee coin? That guy was of quite strong build and not from any attribute was looking like incapacitate doing work. I inquired what he is doing. He said that he is not doing any work… Then why doesn’t he work. He said, see if you want to give money give me otherwise don’t give me gyan. I would ask some other person…
What… I was almost speechless hearing this. Why mendicancy is better option than working.
I remember an incident of Mumbai. This is some five year back incident when in a pleasant evening, I was sitting opposite to Hilton Tower at Marine Drive, which once was use to be one of the favorite place of mine to sit and pass time counting waves and observing colorful people running here and there in hurry. I was just observing people there and then I saw a father – son duo sitting on the wall and talking to each other. Lot of packmans was moving on footpath to sell their products. There a small kid of age of 9 – 10 years was also among those hawkers, who were selling popcorn. The son called that kid and asked for Popcorn. The cost of one packet of popcorn was five rupee. Son gave him a 10 rupee note, took one packet and said to keep remaining money. That kid felt astonished of the situation. He was in confusion whether to keep remaining 5 bucks or not. Suddenly he picks one more packet of popcorn from his bag, kept it in the young son’s hand and ran away shouting popcorn… popcorn…
My goodness, he was just a kid and was getting 5 bucks as tip. This amount would have been enough for him to freak out and have something to eat and enjoy. But he rather behaved like a businessman and had sold one more packet of popcorn…I was amused seeing that kids great sense of decision-making.

And here is this man… I am still speechless and just want to let my subconscious mind do the work.

Today read these lines of Jigar Muradabadi. I loved it...
मैं? और तेरे इश्क के क़ाबिल? नही! नही!
मुझको मुआफ़ कर की मैं तुझसा हसीं नहीं!

Politician & Manager

Today someone asked me about the distinguishing traits of a Manager.

I think, a Manager is one who creates more Manager. He / She should mould his / her subordinates in such a way that the organisation find them to be the asset for organisation.
If a Manager is very good enough to create lot of followers, then he / she definitely is not a Manager, but a good politician.
And an organisation is definitely not a bunch of "Good Politicians". :)

The Economics of Naxalism !!!

I was in Bastar 2 days back. It is one of the district know for monolithic Naxalites problem. As I am still reading some more stuff on the topic, this is still a matter of attention for me.

There in Bastar, I came across another face of Naxalism, the commercial face.

To my great surprise, I came to know that Naxalism is no more a philosophy; it has rather became a way of making money, easy money rather.

How…

Whenever the Naxalite group call for a strike or total closure of any city, road, tehsil or village, the local businessman get the information 3 – 4 days prior to the incidence. And during these early days, they stock daily usage things and sell it at double rate to the local citizen. Hard earned money of peasant go waste for funding the Naxalite movement in a very wrong way. The money earned by the businessmen during all this black marketing gets equally divided into the Police, and the Naxalite group.
A very easy way of making money. Earned at the cost of local people, for whose right they are fighting…

Why then this movement will not flourish here!

Naxalite groups are earning money by duping people. Otherwise what differences these people have bought in the life of peasant for whose right they are fighting? Did at any place, a social justice or equality have been brought because of any Naxalite movement? Did even a single person can stand and tell the Nation that, “Yes the Naxalite Movement in their village has made a difference in his life in an incontrovertible sense?”
I think, the early people will understand the early they would come out of the anguish of being oppressed and exploited. As no one but their own well-wishers are exploiting them and letting them be like that so as to run the shop of Naxalism.

Big Nirvana in Small Happiness

I remember those pluvious days, when we had won the football match playing in rain.
And the day when I cross the railway track without falling down from my bicycle.
Those class 3rd days when for the very first time I got the remark “Excellent” in my notebook.
The day when finally my kite started flying high in the sky.
And the day when very first time, I had taken Railway Reservation standing in a queue, without doing any errs.
Oh what were those days! Very small things were giving us Elysian happiness.
After doing anything which I never had done were really giving me a great sense of accomplishment.
I was cherishing those moments.
Appreciating myself.
Oh man, u did something which was not so easy.
Where all those days did went?
Plausibly those were the days of complete bliss and delight and peace. Actually the days of Nirvana.

Naxalites: - The Transgress Mortal

Naxalism, still a topic for me to learn and understand it better.
In this quest of understanding the subject, I was literally digging my library for the whole Sunday. I got another book, which if not was on Naxalism, was somehow related to it. It was Mahashweta Devi’s “Bhookh” (भूख). Mahashweta Devi is one of the treasured Indian Author who had written books in Bangla, Hindi and English. Her novel “Bhookh” was scripted around the tribal life of “Palamu” a district of now Jharkhand. This books deals with the Zamindari Pratha and Bandhua Majduri. Here in this novel, the tribal people of Kheda, Jhujharu, Laratu and several like villages were being exploited by the Zamindar of that place. Tribal people were made slave, their ladies were being property of Zamindar, and people were forced to work for the Landlord for a handful of corn.
When the victimization had crossed all the limits, the villagers joined their hand together and formed an extremist group to fight for their rights. And to ask for their rights, they became violent and started killing people of landlord. This movement had been supported by some of the communists of nearby big towns. This way the local police started suspecting as the dawn of Naxalite movement in Palamu.

I read this novel in a single sitting on Sunday night. This may not be the documented cognitive process of dawn of Naxalism, but would definitely have been started because of all these slavery, oppression and exploitation. Though this may be one surmise. Things are not that simple as it looks like.

I remember an incident of village Bara of Jahanabad (Bihar) where in the year 1996 a more than 56 people were being killed by the Naxalite group MCC in retaliation. As per one of the report of BBC, right from 1967 till 2008, as much as 8000 people were being killed because of Naxalism. I don’t understand, by killing people, entire village and humanity how someone could establish social justice! Isn’t it a way to dissemble ones own weakness. I cannot educate my people to understand their right so I taught them to take gun and hunt for their own right… an Eye for an Eye kind of act. Though I am still digging the topic, but still I think that “The Naxalism Philosophy is good but the mechanism adopted for Social Justice is not at all acceptable by society”. This is not in the benefit of the mankind.

Tomorrow, I am going to Bastar. Probably I would get some more insight on this subject.

Naxalite Movement - An Annihilation Line

Learning new things always enamors me. And here I got a job which allows me to get divulged to various situations and places to understand, learn and experience. I was planning to go to Bastar District this month and had planned my Itinerary for the month accordingly. As a wont, before going to any place, I generally try knowing the metier of the place. This I do by asking people, or searching on internet. Here in Chattisgadh, Bastar is known for its tralatitious Bastar Art on wood and wire and most importantly know for Naxalites.
Naxalites, what is this? Who are they? Is this a philosophy or a way of life or just a criminal group? Where does this thought aroused? Lot of questions hovering inside my subconscious mind. What to do, where to go to satisfy my inner soul by answering these questions!
Yes, I have some books on the same topic. And the Ethernet world is open for me, waiting for me to log on and let me shower with the knowledge on the topic.

Naxalite or Naxalism is an informal name given to communist groups that were born out of the Sino-Soviet split in the communist movement in India. Ideologically they belong to various trends of Maoism.

The term Naxalites comes from Naxalbari a small village in West Bengal. Here a section of Communist Party of India (Marxist) (CPI(M)) led by Charu Majumdar and Kanu Sanyal led a violent uprising in 1967, trying to develop a "revolutionary opposition" in opposition to the CPI(M) leadership. The insurrection started on May 25, 1967 in Naxalbari village when a peasant was attacked by hired hands over a land dispute. Local peasants retaliated by attacking the local landlords and the violence escalated. Majumdar greatly admired Mao Zedong of China and advocated that Indian peasants and lower classes must follow in his footsteps and overthrow the government and upper classes whom he held responsible for their plight. He engendered the Naxalite movement through his writings, the most famous being the “Historic Eight Documents” which formed the basis of Naxalite ideology.
This movement started going beyond the poor and peasant. The philosophy has contaminated the youth also. The Naxalites gained a strong presence amongst the radical sections of the students’ movement in Calcutta. Large number of students left their education to join revolutionary activities. Majumdar adjusted the tactics of CPI(ML), and claimed that the revolutionary warfare was to take place not only in the rural areas but everywhere and spontaneously. Thus Majumdar's 'annihilation line', a dictum that Naxalites should assassinate individual "class enemies" as a part of the insurrection was put into practice not only against landlords, but also against university teachers, police officers, politicians and others.
Throughout Calcutta, schools were shut down. Naxalite students took over Jadavpur University and used the machine shop facilities to make pipe guns to fight the police. Their headquarters became Presidency College, Kolkata.
The Naxalites soon found ardent supporters among the educated elite, and Delhi's prestigious St. Stephen's College, alma mater of many contemporary Indian leaders and thinkers, became a hotbed of Naxalite activities.

This philosophy became hot topic for film fraternity too. The British musical group Asian Dub Foundation has a song called Naxalite. This song was part of the soundtrack to the 1999 film Brokedown Palace. In 2005 a movie called Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi directed by Sudhir Mishra was released with the backdrop of Naxalite movement. In August 2008, Kabeer Kaushik's Chamku starring Bobby Deol and Priyanka Chopra explored the story of a boy who takes arms against the state.
There is a reference to a character, in the novel, The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, joining with the Naxalites.
The 1998 film Haazar chaurasi ki Maa starring Jaya Bachchan gives a very sympathetic portrayal of a Naxalbari militant killed by the state.
The Naxalites say they are fighting oppression and exploitation to create a classless society. But since last couple of year, the way their movement have changed shows that somewhere there philosophy has been shifted from class war to a terrorist movement. In fact a week back, some of the extremists had been caught by Chattisgadh Police with very automatic weapons which was claimed to be got by some terrorist group cross border.
Though this topic on Naxalite have come to my mind randomly, unintentionally. But as I started reading to understand the movement, at some part I started getting convinced with the philosophy. No, conviction doesn’t mean that I am going to join some Naxalite group. But it means to actually see the movement closely. But then, the way this movement has started shaping, I think, the basic soul of the movement is dropping off.

Next time will write on its spreading in India.

सत्ताईस सदियों का फासला

याद आता है
कुछ सदी पुरानी वो बात
वो दिन, वो रात
जब हम दोनों प्रकति की आगोश में
एक दुसरे से मिले थे
जब हवाएं भी बोझिल हो
टुकडो में बह रही थी
जब सूरज
अपनी परछाइयो से पार पाना चाह रहा था
तुमने मुझसे मेरी नजदीकी मांगी थी
इतनी नजदीकी की दूर जा पाना नामुमकिन हो
जब शाम अपने में ही शरमाई गुलाबी हुई जा रही थी
जब परिंदे आवारगी की हद तक
अपने नीड़ की तलाश में बिखरे - बिखरे उड़ रहे थे
तुमने कहा था
हमारा रिश्ता सात जन्मो का नहीं
सत्ताईस सदियों का है

तब हवाओ ने अपना रुख बदला
और सूरज अपनी परछाइयो के पार हो आया

मैं आज भी साल दर साल जी रहा हूँ
सत्ताईस सदियों तक
तुम्हारे साथ सत्ताईस सदी तक जीने की आस में.
-अमितेश

हिस्से की ज़िन्दगी

कहते है मिलती है एक ज़िन्दगी हमें
पूरी ज़िन्दगी जीने के लिए
कहते है एक मौत मिलती है हमें
पूरी मौत की मियाद तक
पर क्या एक ज़िन्दगी काफी है
पूरी ज़िन्दगी जीने के लिए!
या एक मौत मुकम्मल है
मौत को मृत्यु तक महसूस करने के लिए...
मैं नहीं मानता,
एक ज़िन्दगी में हमें
कई जिंदगियों से जुड़ना पड़ता है
तो कोई कैसे,
हिस्सों में उन जिंदगियों से जुड़ सकता है।
फिर तो ज़िन्दगी बाँटते-बाँटते हिस्सों में,
ख़ुद के लिए शायद ही बचे कोई हिस्सा
अपनी पूरी ज़िन्दगी जीने के लिए।
पता नहीं मरने के बाद भी कोई
अपनी पूरी ज़िन्दगी जी पाता है या नहीं।
शायद मरने के बाद भी
मौत को हिस्सों में बांटना पड़ता होगा।
-अमितेश